The Night Has No Companion
by icebreaker316
Summary: Takes place immediately after the JLU episode Grudge Match. Q/H, BM/WW, GA/BC, HG/GL, and SM/LL to come. Yeah, let's just throw 'em all in there together.
1. Chapter 1

Takes place immediately after the JLU episode Grudge Match. I don't own anything, except for this brain I bought at the store.

Warning: Severe angst ahead, mostly on the BM/WW side. Shameless humor everywhere else. Occasional swearing. Reviews always appreciated 

**Chapter 1**

"This way!" whispered Batman, ducking into the shadows. Green Lantern, Flash, Green Arrow and the Question followed suit, tiptoeing behind the dark knight. The five men silently darted under an archway and into an almost empty parking garage. Dirty orange lights shone from the ceiling, allowing enough light to see the faded yellow parking lines and a sign on a cement pillar reading 'C4.' Beyond the pillar, outlines of two motorcycles were barely visible.

"Ollie, they're here," said Question to the blonde archer at his side.

"What? How do you know?" asked Green Arrow, frantically craning his neck to examine the entire garage.

"Look, their bikes." The faceless Victor Sage motioned toward the motorcycles.

"How do we know the others are here?" asked Green Lantern, a hint of concern evident in his deep voice.

"Infrared showed Diana's invisible jet a few blocks away," said Batman. "I assume the others used the transporters since all the javelins are accounted for on the Watchtower."

"Blah, blah, blah, can we go rescue our girlfriends now?" said Flash, itching to move. Both Batman and Green Lantern glared fiercely at the scarlet speedster. Wally immediately coiled back. "I-I mean…our girlfriends….and _ex_-girlfriends…and…friends that are girls…" He gave an innocent smile.

Green Lantern looked over at Batman. "Can I strangle him now?"

"Unfortunately, no. We have work to do." Once again, Batman led the other four through the shadows. When they reached the elevator doors, he took the specialized lock pick out of his utility belt and jabbed it into the card lock. The scraping metal was the only sound for several seconds. John Stewart shifted uncomfortably, staring idly at his power ring.

"Ugh…Bruce…you want me to--"

"No," snapped Batman. "I've almost got it."

"Wait," butted in Vic. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Flash, his voice resonating off the concrete walls.

"Sshhh!" the rest hissed in unison. A dull creaking sound bore through the silence. Each man tensed, preparing for a fight. The bell chimed and the elevator door crept open. Harsh white light revealed four women: Fire, Vixen, Shayera and Wonder Woman. The women froze, staring at the five men in front of them, before bursting into fits of laughter.

"Are you here to rescue us?" asked Shayera through violent giggles.

"Or were you planning on fighting us, first?" choked Mari.

Three of the five men relaxed. A streak of red flew by, and Flash rested his elbow on Fire's shoulder. "No League babes go missing on our watch," he grinned, winking at her.

"But ve did go missing," she replied in a thick Brazilian accent. Wally's smile melted away.

"Obviously, we've handled the situation ourselves. Roulette and Sonar are in federal custody," said Diana coldly, speaking to Batman.

"Next time I won't waste my jet fuel," he replied, the white lenses of his cowl narrowing.

"We'd hate for it to put a dent in your pocketbook." The Amazon stood firm against the Batglare, the only person on earth able to withstand it.

"Who pays for your jet fuel?" The dark knight's voice was harsh and menacing. Its intended purpose worked its magic, slicing through Diana's tough façade. However, Bruce immediately regretted his words when the power in her features dissolved into pain. Without another word, the princess took flight and disappeared out of the parking garage. The remaining eight didn't speak for several seconds.

"Call Mr. Terrific for transport. I have some things to take care of," grunted Batman. He turned on his heel and started for the archway.

"Yeah, you go get her Brucey!" called Flash. The dark figure stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and glared. It only took Bruce a few steps to reach Wally, and when he did, the Flash was trembling like a mouse.

"If the word _Brucey_ ever comes out of your mouth again, I will personally see to it that your legs are amputated and fed to Harley's hyenas," growled Batman through tightly clenched teeth. And with that, he stormed off into the night.

"Man, are you ever gonna learn?" said John to his still cowering friend.

"Sorry to interrupt the family feud here, but where's Dinah?" interrupted Ollie.

"I think she and Huntress are still in there," said Mari, motioning behind her. Question didn't hesitate to board the elevator. Ollie followed, leaving the other five on their own. The car descended, and when it opened into the arena, they stepped out.

"Where are they?" asked Ollie, searching around them. The faceless man rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger.

"Hmm, I have a feeling," replied Vic.

"Psh, you and your feelings." Green Arrow rolled his eyes and followed his friend across the red-carpeted floor to the top of the stairs.

"What the!" shrieked Ollie at what he saw occuring in the fighting cage. He started down the steps, but Vic held an arm out in front of him.

"Wait," he whispered.

"For what?! Our girlfriends are ripping each other to pieces!"

"No." Vic's head cocked to the side as he analyzed the scene. "They're sparring." As it dawned on Ollie exactly what was happening, a sly smile spread across his face.

"Whoa."

"I agree." Beneath the mask, Victor Sage smiled widely as well.

"Fifty bucks says Dinah wins."

"I'll take that bet." The two men sat in the top row to watch the fight, their girlfriends oblivious to their presence.

"So you think Bruce will ever pull his head out of his ass and see the light?" asked Ollie, not looking away from the spectacle in front of him. It was unclear who was winning; both women were locked in a hold, neither budging an inch.

"Doubtful. But I think the strategy Diana is taking on may yield results."

"And what strategy is that?"

"You saw what happened up there. She gave him a dose of his own medicine. Pushed him over the edge, and now he regrets it."

"That last line about the jet fuel…that was harsh, even for him."

"My point exactly. He is losing himself," said the faceless man, unable to tear his eyes away from the beautiful woman with flowing black hair.

At that moment, Dinah forced Helena off of her for a split second. The two men held their breath, but the women continued their motionless power struggle. "Losing himself, huh? What do you think'll happen if he caves?"

"In terms of what?"

"I dunno. Will he be…y'know…different?"

"He won't be any different than he is now, in my opinion. He already sacrifices everything he has for her, because he loves her. That won't change. And he won't allow anything to get in the way of his work, but neither will she."

"So things will stay the same?"

"Relatively. Bruce might seem a little lighter, Diana darker, but their jobs depend on who they are, and they each have their images to uphold." When Vic finished, Ollie actually looked away from the fight to stare at his friend. "You asked," Vic reminded him.

"Please tell me you don't do that love guru stuff with every relationship you come across."

The faceless man turned toward Ollie. "I don't," he said.

"Good."

"It's just a natural observance of human emotion and behavior," added Vic, turning back to the fight.

"Ahh, come on!" said Ollie, rolling his eyes once again. "Maybe one of these days, being in a relationship will turn you into less of a freak."

"Again, doubtful." The fight between Dinah and Helena continued, but with more ferocity. Their grunts were audible where Vic and Ollie sat. Instead of laboring against the other's hold, they were now using their own strengths in movement to disable the other.

"Dinah's got her in actual hand to hand. She _is_ a master judo fighter and boxer," said Green Arrow confidently. Black Canary blocked Huntress's advances. "See!"

"I wouldn't be so sure. Helena learns with each fight, taking into account both her and her opponent's weaknesses. I have no doubt she's figured out Dinah's already, and is prepared to use it against her. She is, after all, a world-class gymnast and martial artist." Helena took a few hard punches from Dinah before unleashing her greatest strength. "Ah, this is my favorite part," said Vic, scooting to the edge of his seat. Ollie didn't bother to give Vic the incredulous glare; they both knew it was assumed.

Suddenly, Dinah was forced to back up. Helena continuously swung her legs at the smaller blonde, pulling them back before Dinah could grab them in a hold, like their first fight. When the blonde attempted to advance with punches again, Helena jumped to the side, dodging them, using the cage wall as leverage. Once she pushed off from the wall, she swung a final hard kick to Dinah, who crumpled to the floor.

"Two," declared Helena. The blonde pushed herself up from the floor.

"Yeah yeah, you win. _This_ time."

Ollie dropped his head into his hands. "Pay up, Robin Hood," said Vic, holding out a gloved hand. The archer groaned, reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar bill.

"Damn," he said as he shoved it into the faceless man's hand.

"Oh please, you can stand to lose a fifty here or there. I've seen your bank records."

"WHAT?!" bellowed Ollie. His voice echoed throughout the arena. The women snapped their heads up to the sound.

"Uhoh," murmured Vic.

"Oh shit," whispered Ollie, realizing what he had done and clapping a hand over his mouth.

"A little late for that, Oliver."

Both men's full names were screamed in harmony at ear-splitting decibels.

"CHARLES VICTOR SAGE!" "OLIVER JONAS QUEEN!"

to be continued……


	2. Chapter 2

Major apologies for the length of time it took to get a second chapter up. College is kicking my butt at the moment. Really sorry for making you all wait! Please don't kill me.

This chapter has a teensy bit of violence in it. You have been warned. (And if anyone thinks I need to change the rating, please feel free to let me know. I'm not very good when it comes to that stuff.) And, as always, I own zero.

**Chapter 2**

Batman gnawed at his lip as the word _Brucey_ swam through his mind. It was one thing to call him by his real name while he was in uniform, but it was another thing entirely to call him _Brucey_. He couldn't tell if he was angrier with Flash for saying it, or angrier with himself for what he'd said to Diana. It didn't matter, all he knew was that he was angry. Clinging to the shadows, he stormed off to the Batwing. As soon as he was in, he took off into the night. He turned on the heat seeking radar, because it wouldn't be easy to find a flying princess in the blackness of night. It was a new moon, so there was no extra light to assist in his search.

When the screen finally showed a dot of red and yellow amid the flat green and blue, he spoke into the commlink. "Batman to Diana."

A hundred yards ahead of him, Diana tried to make her voice sound as indifferent and apathetic as possible. "What is it?"

"I thought you should know you flew your jet to Blüdhaven." There was a small pause before she answered.

This caught Diana off guard. "Oh," she said quietly, trying and failing to remember where she actually parked it. Before she could ask, she forced herself to sound indifferent again. "Where is it?"

"Follow me." The Batwing sped up until it flew past her. Diana hadn't even heard it. It was silent, just like him. She glared at the flying black figure, wishing to the gods she had the ability to shoot laser beams from her eyes. There was no choice but to follow. When he landed in an empty park, she touched down a considerable distance away. Why did he have to stop? He could have just said, "It's down there," and left. That was more like him.

And just as she feared, he had gotten out of the Batwing and started toward her. Now that she was in range, she put a finger to the star on her tiara and willed the jet to turn translucent, enough for her to discern it. When it followed orders and appeared, most unfortunately, right next to where he now stood, she cursed her luck.

"Thanks," she said flatly and without eye contact. The jet's latch opened on command and she stepped onto it.

"Wait," he said suddenly. She turned to face him. "I'm…sorry for what I said."

"No you aren't," she replied, and started back up the latch.

He had just apologized, something he hardly ever does, and she threw it back in his face. He darted in front of her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded. Her face remained perfectly serene.

"You meant what you said." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"How do you know?" he snapped.

"The Batman doesn't say things unless he means them," she stated.

"That's not true."

"If you can give me one example, I'll accept your apology." He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"What do you want from me?" he snarled, jaw clenched.

"I want nothing from you. I believe it was you who approached me." Her voice was perfectly even. It irritated him to his wits' end.

"Stop playing games. You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"I just made a fool out of you in front of seven League members. You have nothing to say about it?"

"No."

"Why not?" Diana paused to think her answer over. Best to go with the truth, she decided.

"Because I simply don't care anymore. You've done everything in your power to hurt me, and now you can do nothing more."

"So you're giving up?" he growled. Diana's heart fluttered, but she ignored it.

"I suppose I am, Bruce. You've finally convinced me." He stood speechless for the first time, so she took the opportunity to shove past him. His footsteps followed her the rest of the way up the latch and into the hull. They stopped when she stopped. "What, no witty retort?" she said, looking over her shoulder.

No reply was made. He just stared solemnly towards her.

"Hmm. Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to return to the Watchtower now."

Again, the Bat was silent. Diana narrowed her eyes at him. "I…believe you know the way out." She nodded at the open latch, unsure of what exactly the dark knight was planning now.

To her surprise, he slammed his fist into the switch that caused the latch to close. She raised one eyebrow. The next thing he did surprised her even more, because it was something she'd only seen him do a few times. He pulled back his cowl.

If anyone was capable of shooting laser beams out of their eyes at this moment (other than a Kryptonian) it was Bruce. The icy blue stare of his stormy cobalt eyes stung at her like never before. His eyebrows were angled down in that perpetual frown. When he started to move toward her, the icy burn in her chest swiftly melted away into anger. The closer he got, the more she imagined her fist making contact with his perfectly chiseled clenched jaw.

He didn't stop until their faces were mere inches apart. Diana could almost feel his cool breath on her skin. All she really wanted to do was stand there and marvel at the perfection of his face, the sharp lines of his features. But she wasn't going to let close proximity cause her to snap. "I thought I asked you to leave," she said firmly. Still, he remained a statue.

The silence fueled her rage. She couldn't take it anymore.

"Get. Out. Now." It was a vicious growl only to match the Batman's.

Bruce's frown strengthened, his nostrils flared, and his lips parted slightly. His voice rumbled fiercely through his gritted teeth. "No."

Diana's hand flew to his throat. She wanted nothing more than to squeeze the life out of him right then and there. When she looked back into his eyes, they were just as icy as before. There was no trace of shock, fear, or even pain on his face. She wanted him to be afraid of her. She wanted to make him feel pain.

Her fingers dug into his skin. Still, nothing registered on his face. She lifted him a few inches off the ground, wanting to see those thick lips gasping for air. The only sign of his current condition was the bulging vein in his forehead. That just wasn't enough for her.

She walked forward until he was pinned against the wall. Again unfazed, Bruce didn't even blink. His eyes bore into her. She squeezed tighter, shoved him further up the wall. His feet dangled almost a foot off the ground.

"You…" she snarled heavily. "You leave when I want you to stay, and you stay when I want you to leave!" The words ripped through her throat. She didn't even recognize her own voice anymore. "Why can't you just listen to me this _once!?"_ Her head pounded and she could hear her own furious heartbeat.

But the man at her mercy didn't flinch. She pulled her arm back and slammed his body into the wall.

"_Nothing_ I do will _ever_ be enough for you, will it!?" she yelled. "No. Because you're _Batman._ You are the _night._ And the night has no companion." She hoped her words burned through him as much as they did her. "So why won't you just put me out of my misery!" Tears built up behind her eyes, but she fought them back. This time when she slammed him against the wall, his shoulders left a dent. Pieces of plaster fell to the floor. "Tell me…" she growled, "tell me you don't love me. Say it!" Her fingernails clawed desperately at his neck when he said nothing. "SAY IT!" she yelled, her voice echoing around them.

A single word came from his mouth. "No."

Diana's rage had now reached its boiling point. She channeled all of her strength into the fingers around his neck, squeezing until they ached. She wondered how long it would take until he finally gave in or passed out. A matter of seconds, maybe? Either way, she would surely win.

But before another thought could pass through her mind, she felt a strange tickling sensation on her hand. Two drops of blood scurried down the back of her hand, leaving trails of red on her white skin. The contrast of color made her sick. Another few drops escaped from the wound that her fingers had made in his skin.

She'd seen blood before. She'd seen his blood before. But she'd never been the one to _make_ him bleed. And now she was responsible for those tiny pieces of life fleeing his body. As a mortal, he only had so much.

Her eyes shifted back to his. Now that her strength had completely left her, the tears poured freely down her cheeks. It didn't matter that the expression on his face had softened. Diana immediately pulled her hand away from his throat and Bruce dropped to the ground. The sound of his coughing mixed with the stains of blood on her hand made her dizzy and she stumbled backwards.

The anger that had previously flown through her was now replaced with fear. Fear at her actions. She clawed at the blood that had made it down to her arm, trying to make it go away. It didn't. Her hands trembled. They were both covered in red.

Bruce, now recovered from the lack of oxygen, ignored the pain in his neck. He watched Diana attempt to frantically wipe away the blood. His blood. She looked up at him like a scared, helpless child. He wanted so badly to kiss her right now, to tell her it was alright, to make her fears go away.

No. He couldn't give in. Not now. It wasn't supposed to happen like this…not this way. He knew the time wasn't right. And he hated himself for it.

But there was one thing he had to say. One thing that might ease her pain and give her back the hope she had lost on his behalf. "Diana," he said gently. "The night _does_ have a companion. It has the moon."

Although he didn't have the heart to leave her at the moment, he had the will to give her her space. And so he did what he had trained himself to do. He tucked his heart away, burying it in darkness. Fearing that it should resurface if he lingered, Bruce pulled his cowl back on, opened the latch, and vanished into the night.

_A few minutes earlier…_

_When Shayera had been transported back up to the Watchtower, she immediately left the others and made her way to the bridge. Mr. Terrific sat behind the monitors, and Superman stood next to him. _

"_Shayera, are you guys ok?" asked the Man of Steel when he saw her approaching._

"_Yeah, we're all fine. Just a little banged up. Hey T, do you mind if…"_

_Before she could even ask her question, Mr. Terrific stood from his seat. "I need a break, anyway," he said with a smile._

"_Sometimes I wonder if you're a telepath," she teased._

"_Nah, just a genius."_

_As soon as Mr. Terrific had disappeared from the bridge, Shayera moved to the monitors._

"_What's going on?" questioned Clark as she poked at a few keys on the console._

"_I'm checking on Diana. Bruce let slip a jackass comment and she bolted. Is her jet in the bay?"_

"_Don't think so, why?"_

"_Figured. She must have taken it to Blüdhaven."_

"_What did he say to her? Must have been pretty bad if she just up and left without an argument."_

"_It wasn't one of his most redeeming moments, but she wasn't terribly polite either. It's getting bad between them, Clark. One of them is bound to snap any second."_

"_In a good way…or a bad?"_

_Shayera looked up at him. "I don't know," she said sadly._

_A few seconds later, one of the monitors showed the inside of Diana's jet, a view from the pilot's console._

"_Di-" she started, but immediately stopped. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them._

"_So you're giving up?" said a gravelly voice she recognized._

"_I suppose I am Bruce. You've finally convinced me." Diana suddenly came into view, Batman following, not making a sound. "What, no witty retort?" she said to him. The dark knight was silent. "Hmm, well if you don't mind, I'd like to return to the Watchtower now." When he made no movement, she said, "I believe you know the way out."_

_Batman said nothing, but pushed the switch that closed the latch and pulled off his cowl._

"_Uh oh…" breathed Clark. The two of them stared at the screen as if they were watching a suspense thriller._

_Bruce walked towards Diana and stopped in front of her. "I thought I asked you to leave," said the Princess. The Bat remained still and silent. Both Clark and Shayera knew all too well how much Diana liked to be ignored. Her irritation was evident in the clenching of her fists. "Get out now," she growled. _

"_No," was all Bruce said. In the blink of an eye, Diana had a hand clenched around his neck._

_Clark moved to yell into the speaker, to tell them to stop, but Shayera held out a hand. "We have to let them work it out," she whispered to him. He reluctantly pulled back and let the scene in front of him unfold. Diana now held Bruce a few inches off the ground, but he wasn't struggling. She pinned him against the wall, visibly tightening her chokehold. _

"_You…you leave when I want you to stay, and you stay when I want you to leave! Why can't you just listen to me this once!?" A _thud_ was heard when she pulled him back and slammed his body into the wall. "Nothing I do will ever be enough for you, will it?!" Her voice was loud and fierce. "No. Because you're Batman. You are the night. And the night has no companion. So why won't you just put me out of my misery!?" His body connected violently with the wall again. "Tell me…tell me you don't love me. Say it! SAY IT!"_

_Clark and Shayera gaped at the monitor, eyes wide as golf balls. "No," said Bruce, barely audible to them. Both seemed to relax at the word. However, Diana's fury did not._

_But suddenly, something changed in her stance. A streak of red had formed on her hand and was now moving down her wrist._

"_Oh god…" whispered Shayera to herself. Diana let him go and Bruce fell to the ground coughing. The Princess backed away from him, staring at her arm. She clumsily tried to wipe the red liquid off, but it was only transferred to her other hand. Then she stared up at Bruce._

"_Diana, the night does have a companion. It has the moon." Without another word, he pulled his cowl back on and opened the latch, disappearing from view. _

_After a few seconds, Diana collapsed to the floor. Even though she was facing away from them, the two in the Watchtower knew she was crying even before the sound of her sobs was heard. Shayera cut the connection and the screen went black._

"_We should give her some privacy," she said solemnly._

"_Will she be alright?"_

_Shayera's only reply was, "She's strong."_

To be continued…..


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took so long, folks. Hopefully you remember what happened in the last chapter, but here's the update. And just a fair warning: my incessant pottymouth is definitely at work. Beware of swearing. Enjoy and feel free to review please!

**Chapter 3**

The Batwing sliced through the atmosphere as it made its way up to the Watchtower. The bay doors opened and Batman set it down in its usual spot, next to the empty space where an invisible jet was frequently parked. The searing pain in his neck hadn't let up, but he'd had worse. The only thing that irritated him was the fact that his suit was now covered in blood. He blamed it on no one but himself, however.

After Bruce had exited the Batwing, he noticed that Clark and Shayera were conveniently located about twenty feet away, and, even more conveniently, he would be forced to pass them if he wanted to leave the hangar. Figuring he should get it over with as soon as possible, he attempted to walk by them.

Obviously, that wasn't going to be an option.

"That's quite the cut you've got there," said Superman wittingly. He didn't need x-ray vision to see through to the large gash on his friend's neck.

"Hope you two enjoyed the show," Bruce growled.

Shayera rolled her eyes. "I told you he saw us."

"Next time, mind your own business." Batman swerved away from them, trying to escape through a detour.

Superman took a quick look around to see if they were being watched, then nodded to Shayera. "Not so fast, buddy," she said, yanking at one of the Bat's long, pointy ears and dragging him into a dim, deserted hallway. Bruce's plans of getting loose were thwarted by Clark when he trapped his arms behind his back.

"You two are going to pay for this," he growled.

"We know," said Shayera, as if this was common knowledge. Clark didn't release him until they got further down the hallway. "Now, talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Come on, Bruce. We want to help," Clark pleaded.

"I didn't ask for your help."

"You never do."

"So what makes you think I need it now!?"

"Because you're bleeding profusely from the neck?" suggested Shayera.

"I was on my way to the infirmary but was kidnapped by two goddamn aliens!"

The two aliens exchanged perturbed glances before turning back to the Earthling. "We just want everything to be ok," said Clark soulfully, trying to impart to his dark friend a sense of just how much he cared.

But Bruce wouldn't have it. He walked right up to the Man of Steel, drew himself up to his full height (which was regrettably a few inches short of Clark's), and unleashed an omega-level Batglare.

"Isn't that sweet," he chided with bone-chilling sarcasm. "The world's most beloved superhero just wants everything to be all rainbows and butterflies. Well, here's a newsflash for you, Kent. You can't have everything you want. So grow up and get the hell over it."

The hurt expression on Clark's face wasn't enough for Batman to show any mercy. "Bruce…" pleaded Clark. "Just listen--"

"No," he growled, bringing his face within inches of Clark's. "You listen. If you want to be the Boy Scout, fine. But before you come sniveling to me about how to live my life, why don't you go fix your own damn problems? Do you _really_ think Lois hasn't figured you out yet?"

Superman's face fell. His entire being fell under Bruce's harsh words.

"I bet you she knows everything," snickered the Bat. "I bet she's been playing you for a fool for years."

Clark looked as if he was on the verge of tears. It was one thing to rebuke Superman himself, but bringing Lois into this left him defenseless. Bruce usually wouldn't pick at those weak spots…unless he really wanted to get to Clark.

"But go ahead, Clark. Keep playing dumb. Just don't expect her to come running into your arms when you tell her you're Superman. Because she _won't._"

Even Shayera's expression had glassed over into one of shock and horror. But Bruce stood firm, glaring down at the slowly shrinking Man of Steel. It soon grew too much for the Kryptonian, who was forced to take a few steps back, not for fear of punting the human through a few dozen walls, but out of humiliation. He didn't even have the will to be angry. He was just…_hurt._

Bruce's glower didn't let up, and soon Clark retreated out of the hallway, moving like a ghost out of the view of the crippling Batglare. Soon, he disappeared around the corner, and Shayera and Bruce were left alone. The Thanagarian scowled at him.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" she hissed. "That was completely unnecessary. If you want to rail on someone, rail on me. I can take it. But he," she said, pointing fiercely down the hallway where Clark had exited, "did _not_ deserve that."

She received no reply save for an intensifying Batglare, so she walked right up to him, as he had done to Clark.

"Come on, tough guy. Let's hear it. What'd'ya got for me?" she encouraged.

"I won't bother wasting my time," he said indifferently.

Shayera was expecting something along the lines of, 'filthy Thanagarian, you'll never fix things with John because you're a conniving traitor,' etc. Those things wouldn't have bothered her, because they were things she told herself on a daily basis. But he completely blew her off – depriving her of a perfectly good reason to defend herself, and a reason to kick his ass.

This just irked her in every way possible. "Why, you little--" But her words were muffled when the bay doors suddenly opened, letting in a flood of turbulent wind. Shayera momentarily forgot about Bruce when she saw the shimmering of Diana's invisible jet touch down. As soon as she turned back to remind him he was in deep shit, he was nowhere to be found. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she growled under her breath. By now her fists were shaking with the urge to strangle someone – preferably a dark, caped someone.

Once she had composed herself, Shayera emerged from the hallway.

Diana exited her jet as if it had been a normal day, taking care not to melt to the floor when she saw the Batwing parked in the hangar. Anyone not filled in on the situation wouldn't have noticed anything out of the ordinary. The blood had been wiped off her hands and a prim expression set on her face. But Shayera knew better. The Princess looked more drained than usual, and her fair skin was uncharacteristically pale.

She caught up with the Amazon before she left hangar, attempting to seem out of the loop. "Hey Diana," she called.

"Oh, hi Shayera," she said weakly.

"Is…everything alright?" she asked casually.

Dread momentarily flashed across the Princess' face. "Umm yes, everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I dunno," Shayera shrugged. "You just seem a little…flustered."

"I must be worn out from the fighting. Maybe I should go lie down."

"Are you sure you're feeling ok? Do you need to go to the infirmary?" she suggested.

Again, dread flashed across Diana's face. "No," she blurted. "No, I'm fine. I'm just going to rest in my quarters. Umm…do you mind writing up the report?"

"Not at all, I'll do it. If you need anything, let me know, ok?"

"Thanks, Shay." With that, the Princess scooted away to her private quarters at a speed slightly slower than Wally's.

Shayera was now certain of three things. One, Diana was going to keep this bottled up for as long as she could. There was no way in hell she could have been worn out from the fighting that had gone down at Roulette's Metabrawl. She'd almost pummeled four of them to death with ease. Two, Diana was going to stay away from Bruce at all costs. Her quickness to avoid the infirmary made that obvious enough, since it was probably inhabited by a cranky nocturnal creature in need of stitches at the moment. And three, all of this unnecessary suffering was going to end. Soon. Even if it meant taking things into her own hands.

First on the list – find Clark. But just for kicks, Shayera took a detour and walked by the infirmary. As she expected, a bloody Batman was being stitched up with a satisfyingly large needle. Although their eyes locked momentarily, she didn't give him the time of day as she passed.

The task of locating Superman hadn't been a difficult one. He stood in front of the giant main bay windows staring silently at the Earth below. "Clark?"

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he breathed.

The vibrant greens and blues of the Earth and its oceans shined up at them. Shayera tried to quell the thoughts of how close the planet had come to being turned to interstellar dust in the wake of her people.

"Yes it is."

"Y'know, I was planning to tell her soon. I just didn't know when or how or…" His voice trailed off. "Do you think she knows?"

Shayera sighed. "Even if she does, it makes no difference. Lois loves Superman, right?"

"I think so."

"Then if she knows Superman is Clark Kent, she loves Clark Kent too. Simple logic."

His brow furrowed as he considered this, and for the first time looked over at her. "I guess I've never thought of it that way."

"Look, Clark. Don't let any of what Bruce said get to you. He's just taking his own emotional problems out on everyone else."

"I know," he sighed. "But sooner or later, he's going to drive away everyone who gives a damn."

"He'll only have himself to blame."

Clark nodded absentmindedly. "I saw Diana's jet land. Did you talk to her?"

"She's not going talking about it. Just escaped to her room."

"Wonderful," he groaned. "Is it just me, or is everyone's love life going down the toilet?"

"Nope. We're all in the shitter. Maybe we should get relationship advice from the Question."

Incessant giggling followed.

"Where is he, anyway?" asked Clark. "I thought he went down with Arrow and…wait, where's Ollie?"

"I think they went to find Huntress and Canary."

"Huntress? She was a part of this, too?"

"Well, she was actually the one to tail Dinah and figure this all out."

"Wow. Question must be rubbing off on her."

"No kidding. But maybe we should check with them just in case." Shayera put a hand to her ear. "Arrow, this is Shayera. Did you and Question find Canary and Huntress?"

"What!?" came a strained voice on the other end. "Oh, yeah yeah, we found 'em."

"Is everything ok? You sound like you're in pain."

"Ah damnit…" he growled. Shayera and Superman exchanged confused glances. "Yeah everything's fine… Can't really chat now, in the middle of something…Ow you son of a…" The rest of his words were cut off by a strange shuffling noise.

"What in the world was that?" said Clark.

Shayera shrugged and cut the connection. "Whatever it was, I _don't_ want to know."

**x.x.x**

To be continued! And here's to Shayera cleaning up after everyone, especially Bruce. Someone has to do it. Review please!


	4. Chapter 4

Update in record time! Woohoo! We're back to the good old wackiness of Q/H and GA/BC. Enjoy and review!

**Chapter 4**

Both the Question and Green Arrow were immediately shocked senseless, frozen in their respective positions. Their full names still echoed around the stadium.

"How long have you been up there!?" yelled Helena, whose glare was fixed on a certain blank face.

The faceless man brought his thumb and forefinger up to his chin. "Well, you see…it so happens that--"

"Get your butt down here!" she interrupted, obviously not in the mood for Vic's sweet talk.

"Yes, ma'am," he grumbled, jolting his legs to life and starting down the stairs obediently.

Arrow still stood at the top, attempting to defy Dinah's glare. "Umm...heh, hi Pretty Bird!" he waved innocently.

Canary placed both hands on her hips. "You're pathetic."

"Terrific," muttered Ollie. "Into the lion's den we go." He too started down the stairs. When he caught up with Question, he whispered, "You come up with a brilliant escape plan, yet?"

"I can weasel my way out of many situations, Queen, but I don't believe this is going to be one of them."

"Why not!?"

Vic sighed in defeat. "Because she knows all of my tricks."

"Wow. So she's just as bananas as you."

Ollie looked over in time to find a truly frightening nonexistent glare coming from the blank face. "Funny," said Vic.

The two of them reached the fighting cage and entered the ring, each coming face to face with their girlfriends.

"I hope you two were enjoying yourselves," said Canary. "Because you won't be for long."

"Look, we were just coming to make sure you were ok since you didn't come out with the others," Ollie protested.

Helena stepped closer to Vic and reached into the inside of his jacket. "And I suppose betting on us like circus animals is the same as making sure we're ok?" Sure enough, Helena found the fifty-dollar bill and snatched it from Vic's pocket. "Some heroes you are." Vic looked bashfully down at his feet, but Helena took no notice. She handed the bill over to Dinah. "Here ya go. Probably his," she said, motioning toward the heir of the Queen fortune.

But Dinah waved it off. "No, you keep it. You won." Helena shrugged and slid the bill into one of her own hidden pockets. Canary once again fixed her scowl on Ollie. "But fifty bucks? That's it?"

"We just had hundreds of slimy old bastards betting fifty grand on us," Helena finished for her. "But fifty _dollars_ was the best you could do?"

"I was planning to take you out to dinner," cut in Vic quietly, still staring down at his feet.

For a moment, Helena looked pleasantly surprised. The moment soon passed, however. "Were you now?" she said mockingly, cupping her hand under his chin and angling it up. "That's very thoughtful. Dinah?" Helena beckoned for the blonde and the two women moved to the other side of the ring, where they started to converse in private.

"Nice job on the improvising," Ollie whispered to Vic, winking at him.

"Who said I was improvising?"

Ollie blinked. "You didn't just make all that dinner bullshit up?"

"No. Why would I?"

"Because no sane man would automatically think to take their girlfriend out to dinner with the money they just won from betting on her."

Vic said nothing; just stared.

Ollie slapped his palm to his forehead. "I keep forgetting. You're not sane at all."

"Alright, here's the deal boys," said Dinah as she and Helena approached them again. "Since you got to watch us fight, we want to watch you fight."

"Ermm, excuse me?" asked Vic.

Helena poked a finger at his chest. "You are going to fight Arrow. First one down for three seconds buys everyone dinner."

"Hang on a second," said Ollie, holding up his hands. "How is this even going to be a fair fight? I kicked his ass last time!"

"Only because I _let_ you kick my ass. If I wanted you unconscious, I would have knocked you out with the first punch."

"So you're telling me you were only pretending to fight like a girl because it was all part of your elaborate scheme and you would later need my help in catching that whale Mandragora?"

A muffled giggle escaped Vic's hidden lips. "He's not as dumb as he looks."

Arrow's face turned beet red with rage. "Fine. I'll be sure to take you down for good this time."

"Whoa, hold on there," said Dinah when he started to warm up. "We have a few more…conditions."

The ever-suspicious cynic in Vic narrowed his eyes. "And they are?"

Dinah grinned widely. "No shoes…"

Helena did the same. "No masks…"

"And no shirts."

Vic groaned. "You're just doing this for your own pleasure and entertainment, aren't you?"

Helena shrugged. "I'd say it's a fair trade."

"Consider it your punishment," said Dinah.

Ollie clenched his fists. "This is ridiculous."

"Scared, Queen?" Vic challenged.

"Of you? Yeah right," he scoffed.

"Then prove it."

His jaw tightened. "Oh, I will."

The seething archer made his way to the edge of the ring, Dinah following.

"I'll show the fool who should be afraid of who," he growled, ripping off his mask and hat in one fluid motion and flinging them to the floor. "This is gonna be fun."

"Yeah, have a ball babe, but could you make it quick? I'm starving."

"Please. We'll be outta here in no time, Pretty Bird."

"Don't underestimate him. The guy survived torture for an entire week."

"Tell ya what. If I lose to this nutjob, you can beat me to a pulp yourself. But only if you're shirtless too," he finished.

Dinah delivered a hard punch to his arm. "You're such a pervert. Just keep your head in the fight."

As Ollie prepared for the match, Helena followed Vic to the other side of the ring.

"Geez baby doll, you really know how to provoke people."

"I know. It's what I do."

"So, are you ever going to tell me what the thirty second flavor was?"

Vic removed the fedora and gloves before pulling out the can of aerosol and spraying it over his face. As soon as his hair was a natural red color and the mask had been peeled off, he smiled at her. "That's top secret information."

"Oh really?" she teased. "And what is this information going to cost me?"

"Hmm," he said, scratching his chin. "A trip to my apartment."

"Don't tell me you lugged that thing home with you, Vic."

"It may or may not be sitting in my freezer as we speak," he said proudly, slipping out of his jacket.

Helena set her hands on her hips. "So you thought stealing a barrel of _ice cream_ was more important than investigating my lead?"

"Uhh…" he hesitated, suddenly caught off guard. "It's really _good_ ice cream."

She looked skeptical. "How good?"

He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. "Good enough to give you an orgasm without the sex."

For a moment, she gaped at him. "Well, where's the fun in that?"

Vic's mouth dropped open. "Touché," he laughed.

Helena helped him unbutton his shirt and when it was off, she placed her hands against his bare chest. "If you win this fight, how about we have ourselves a little victory party later tonight? And we can have some of that top secret orgasmic ice cream."

Vic seemed to be in a daze, letting his imagination run wild over the idea. "I am the luckiest man alive," he said after a moment.

"You have to beat him first," she reminded him.

"No problem," he said as he kicked off his shoes.

Her eyes suddenly grew wide. "Are you actually wearing orange socks?!"

Vic looked down at his own feet. They were most definitely covered with bright orange socks. "It seems I am," he smiled.

She just rolled her eyes. "You're _such _a dork."

Now that both the male Leaguers were maskless, shoeless, sockless, and very shirtless, they stepped into the center.

"Shake, please," said Helena. Vic and Ollied glared at each other, but reluctantly shook hands. "Good. Remember, three seconds."

"Loser pays for dinner. Ollie? Vic? You ready?" asked Dinah. A silent nod from each gave her the signal. "Let's go."

The women retreated to the edge of the ring to watch and enjoy. Very slowly, the redhead and blonde started to circle, staring each other down. Blue eyes were locked with green as each tried to read the other.

Ollie made the first move, eager to induce as much pain as possible onto his opponent. The plan backfired when Vic dodged Ollie's charge, spun around and slammed his elbow into his back. After a small grunt in pain, Ollie turned back and glared.

"Alright pal. I'm through being nice to you."

"Bring it on, Blondie."

Again, Ollie flung his body at Vic. This time, he managed to catch the redhead's jaw in an uppercut, sending him stumbling backwards. He then took advantage of Vic's unguarded state, swinging his leg at his upper body. However, Vic was not so unguarded at all, and he caught Ollie's leg with his hands and twisted until the archer was forced to go tumbling onto his stomach. Instead of staying there, he rolled over and shot to his feet.

This time Vic attacked, slamming his fist into Ollie's ribs, only to be knocked off his feet when the blonde hooked his leg behind Vic's knees. Instead of going down alone, Vic grabbed Ollie's shoulders and brought them both careening to the ground with the momentum. While Vic agilely rolled on his back and up onto his feet, Ollie felt his face smash into the ground. Ignoring the searing pain in his nose, he pushed himself up. Mostly out of frustration, he tackled Vic with such force resembling that of a large football player.

Now that Vic was pinned to the ground by a man slightly heavier than himself, he too became frustrated. He drove his knee into the man's kidney and felt the weight give, allowing him to shove Ollie off. The archer went rolling onto his back as Vic sat up and drove his fist toward his face. But Ollie rolled over once more, causing Vic's fist to smash into the ground instead of his already aching face.

The redhead, who was still stationary on his knees, recoiled from the shooting pain in his fist. Ollie took the opportunity to slink behind him and grab his neck in a chokehold. But suddenly the commlink in his ear went off.

"Arrow, this is Shayera. Did you and Question find Canary and Huntress?"

Disoriented by the voice floating around in his head, he responded with, "What?" while tightening the chokehold. But he soon comprehended. "Oh, yeah yeah, we found 'em."

Vic took advantage of the distraction to consider his options. Without the leverage from his feet on the ground, he couldn't just fling his assailant off of him. Instead, he decided to use his head. Literally.

As soon as the back of Vic's head connected with Ollie's nose, he went stumbling back, allowing Vic the time to get to his feet.

"Is everything ok? You sound like you're in pain," continued Shayera.

Dizziness set in for the archer. "Ah damnit…" he groaned, putting a hand to his head. "Yeah everything's fine…Can't really chat now, in the middle of something…"

The dizziness didn't dissipate quickly enough for him to notice a roundhouse kick coming toward his shoulder. It impacted and sent him backwards. "Ow you son of a…" he growled. Now he was furious.

To show it, he swung the arm that hadn't been kicked at Vic's head. His knuckles blasted into his cheekbone, and he was surprised not to hear a crack from the blow. Nevertheless, he kept throwing his fists when Vic didn't crumple from the first hit. Now, to Ollie's surprise, the redhead was blocking each and every one. Arrow swung his left fist, and Vic quickly wrapped his fingers around Ollie's wrist in a vice grip, so he swung his other fist in hopes of freeing himself.

But Vic seized that wrist too. Unsure of what would happen next, Ollie tried driving his shoulder forward, which Vic had expected. Tightening his grasp on the blonde's wrists and using his opponent's momentum once again, he yanked him over his head and slammed him onto his back on the ground with all his strength.

Apparently it was enough, because Ollie didn't get back up right away. The blonde remained on the floor for much longer than three seconds, staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide. Not only was the wind completely knocked out of him, he was in shock from losing to the _Question_ of all people. Somewhere off in the distance he could hear applause, which he assumed wasn't from Dinah. Then the redhead came into his field of view. Vic leaned over Ollie, looking down at him with a mixture of pride and concern.

"Owww…" wheezed the archer, unable to get much else out as he struggled to take in oxygen. It made him feel slightly less pathetic when he noticed a swollen purple bruise already starting to take form over Vic's cheekbone.

The Question gave a small chuckle before wincing slightly from the pain in his cheek. He held out a hand to help Ollie up. Arrow took it and rose slowly to his feet, promptly descending into a fit of coughing as his lungs rearranged themselves. Dinah flew to his side and supported him despite the irritated scowl on her face.

"That wasn't one of your most shining moments, hon," she said, patting him on the back.

"At least my face is still pretty," he coughed and laughed at the same time, pointing to Vic's face.

"_Pretty_ is in the eye of the beholder, Queen. And as far as I know, chicks dig scars."

This was affirmed when Helena ran her fingers along the scars on his back and shoulders from the electrical burns he had received at the hands of Cadmus. "Got that right, baby doll. Must be why I like you so much."

He looked at her inquisitively. "Hmm. And all this time I thought it was my eccentric charm."

Ollie forcibly cleared his throat. "If you two are going to stand here and making googly eyes at each other all night, fine. But we're gonna go eat."

"Nah, we can do that over dinner," said Helena. "Besides, it's not every night a billionaire pays for your food."

Green Arrow rolled his eyes and grabbed his discarded clothes and quiver before starting out of the ring with Dinah. Once Vic had done the same, he and Helena left the ring as well.

They began ascending the stairs when Vic wrapped an arm around Helena's waist. He smirked at her as his imagination once again went to work. "I don't know about you, but I'm more excited for dessert."

**x.x.x**

So, I haven't decided what the 32nd flavor should be yet. I'm curious to know what you all think it is? Remember, in the show it was pink with red swirlies in it. And it has to be something outrageous if it's a big secret turned conspiracy that Vic has to uncover. So please let me know your ideas =) And sorry if I seem partial to the Question/Huntress pairing. They're just so kinky and weird and hilarious!


	5. Chapter 5

Yay for more angst! Sorry I take so long to update. This chapter will be a little shorter than the last, but I wanted to get it up as soon as possible. Sorry I keep switching back and forth from Q/H and GA/BC to BM/WW. They'll all meet up eventually. Chapter after this might be back to Q/H, or it might be a continuation of this one. Live in anticipation. Here we go!

**Chapter 5**

Wally West went strolling through the Watchtower while wolfing down a total of eight cheeseburgers. He walked by the trophy room, the infirmary, the commissary – whoa, back up. Infirmary. Batman. Batman in the infirmary?

A doctor had just finished stitching up a rather large wound that cut across Batman's neck when Flash zipped through the doors of the infirmary, swallowing the last of his cheeseburgers.

"Yo Bats! What the…whoa!" he gasped, staring at the bloodied wound. He didn't notice the intensely seething glare he was currently receiving.

"What do you want?" growled the Bat, covering up the gash with the…_damnit_…still bloody Batsuit.

"Oh, nothin. I was just walking by."

Why of _all_ people on this god-forsaken spaceship did Flash have to be the one walking by at this moment? If Bruce's face could have possibly screwed up into a tighter scowl, it would have. His nostrils flared and his lips mashed into a hard line. He didn't respond, but instead, attempted to move to the door, thus avoiding any further contact with Flash. Unfortunately, for _both_ heroes, the speedster wasn't satisfied.

"Whoa dude, hang on a sec!" he called, blocking the doorway completely. "What happened to your neck!?"

"Nothing."

Wally's mouth twisted in suspicion. "That doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Move."

"Uh uh," he shook his head defiantly. "Not til you tell me what the heck's goin on!" Flash looked around, making sure they were out of earshot, then leaned in closer to the steaming Bat. "Did the Princess finally give you a piece of her mind?" he chided, elbowing Bruce's arm. "I think you really ticked her off back in Blüdhaven, man. And I thought _I_ had issues when it came to beautiful women."

Wally rolled his eyes at himself, but was jolted when a hand suddenly grabbed at the neck of his uniform and yanked him forward. Flash was now inches away from the most terrifying Batglare he had ever experienced.

Bruce's voice was low, but deadly. "If you don't shut that obnoxious hole in your face, you won't have to worry about beautiful women, because _neither_ of the ones you're seeing will want anything to do with you."

The obnoxious hole in Wally's face hung open in horror. "But…how…they…I don't know what you're talking about," he finally mumbled, unable to come up with anything else.

"No?" hissed Batman, tightening his grip around the uniform, further choking the red-clad hero. "You aren't currently dating both a Beatriz de Costa and a Linda Park?"

"Well-well…" he stuttered. "Flash is dating one of them, Wally's dating the other! I swear it's not like I'm…"

"Cheating?" Bruce finished for him.

"Uhh…" Wally's lips quivered in utter fright. "Oh god, please don't say anything. I…I promise I'll do the right thing and…and take responsibility and…anything you say, Bats!" he squeaked, dread seeping through his veins.

"Then I _strongly _suggest you keep all comments regarding me or Diana to yourself, or you will find your future to be _extremely_ desolate and lonely. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal," whispered Wally, vocal chords and all other organs frozen in place.

When he thought it couldn't have gotten any worse, Batman gave a large, toothy smile that made the speedster want to melt out of existence completely. "Good," finished Bruce, releasing Wally out of the chokehold.

Batman noticed Flash practically shrink to the floor as he strode out the infirmary doors, no happier than he had been when he entered. He walked past John on his way out and motioned behind him.

"Go clean up the puddle of Flash in the infirmary."

The Green Lantern raised an eyebrow, but Bruce didn't stop to explain. He had people to avoid and a monitor room to lock himself into.

Clark and Shayera were priority one and two on the list of people to avoid, since they were standing merely twenty feet away in front of the giant windows looking out over the Earth. John immediately made himself number three when he came jogging after Batman.

"Hey Bruce, wait up," he said.

Bruce pretended not to hear and kept on walking.

"Fine, ignore me if you want. I'll go find out from Clark and Shayera."

_Damn you, John._ The Bat stopped and turned to face the Green Lantern, who was smugly waiting with his arms crossed for the conversation to come.

"What is it?" he growled.

John rolled his eyes. "Do you just _pretend_ to act that dumb?"

Taken as rhetorical, Bruce chose not to answer that question.

"Hey, you're bleeding," said John, pointing to the pool of blood on Bruce's suit.

Batman clenched his jaw. "I know."

John raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Uhh, whatever. So, did you go after her? Did you talk to her?"

"Yes. Happy?" asked Bruce mockingly, before turning to leave again.

"No!" A green beam of energy blocked Bruce's path. Begrudgingly, he turned back around to face John. "And did you resolve anything?"

"There was nothing to resolve."

"Oh right, and that little verbal sparring session you two had was just a daily occurrence?"

At that, Bruce winced. Although John was being sarcastic, he more or less hit the nail on the head. He and Diana's verbal sparring sessions had become somewhat of a daily occurrence, something Bruce wasn't proud of.

"No," he answered, rather ambiguously.

"Ok…" John narrowed his eyes. "Come on, man. Getting you to talk is like pulling teeth for everyone around here. Give us a break."

"Being interrogated is like pulling teeth for me. This is the fifth cross-examination I've gone through today, and to be honest, they've all ended badly for both parties involved. So do yourself a favor and don't test me."

"Look, Bruce. We're both in the same boat here. I can understand why you don't want to talk to any of the others about this. I saw the old man's face when Diana disappeared. I saw his pain. Is that how you want to end up?"

John was digging deeper than any of the others had. But this just made him angrier at himself, an anger that would be manifested against John, if the former marine should decide to keep talking.

"I don't have time for this," Bruce growled.

"You never have time for anything, Bruce! Anything or anyone. If you keep pushing everyone away, no one will give a shit about you when you're bleeding to death in a ditch somewhere."

"That's fine with me."

A frustrated John let out a heavy sigh. "I know you think you don't deserve to have people who care about you, people who love you, but that's not a good enough reason to be ungrateful."

"I didn't ask for them to feel that way."

"No, you didn't. And you didn't ask for your parents to be taken away from you either."

Bruce became tense at the mention of his parents. No one was allowed to go there. No one.

"But you did what you had to, and now you save lives every day because of it. It's who you are."

It took every ounce of Bruce's strength not to whip out a Batarang and throw it into John's stomach. He began to shake with fury. He could hear his own quivering breath. "I would give _all_ of this back just to see my parents one more time," he snarled. "All of it."

When Bruce turned to leave, John didn't need to restrain him. He only needed to ask, "Even Diana?"

Batman stopped. A million things were buzzing through his mind. Would he give up Diana to see his parents again? Could he choose between them? Should he lecture John on the Shayera/Rex situation in retaliation for bringing up such a horrifyingly painful dilemma? He really wanted to. But Bruce was sick of talking. His mind was made up and he needed to act before he changed it.

John didn't notice Bruce's fist flying through the air until it connected with his jaw, sending him tumbling onto his back. But the second John hit the floor, Bruce immediately regretted punching him. He didn't feel less angry like he imagined he would. He just felt worse. There was no other option but to escape. And that's exactly what he did.

"Go ahead, Bruce," John called from the floor. "Take the easy way out."

The Bat clenched his jaw hard to keep himself from yelling something obscene, and just kept on walking. God, John was right about everything. He _was_ taking the easy way out. Just like he always did. But it was only to avoid pain, his own and others'. Inevitable, emotional pain. John's words rang in his ear.

_I saw the old man's face when Diana disappeared. I saw his pain. Is that how you want to end up?_

His heart was screaming no. But his heart was foolish. Only his brain was aware of the consequences. But was it foolish to love Diana?

The door to one of the monitor rooms endured a good portion of Bruce's anger as he slammed it open. He wasn't surprised to find it occupied, but for Steel, Elongated Man and Dr. Midnight's own wellbeing, it was best the room become unoccupied as soon as possible.

"Out," he said. To Bruce's relief, the three heroes at the computer obeyed immediately, scurrying out the door. He slammed it shut behind them, locking all three of the heavy-duty locks. After taking a deep breath, he sat down in front of the computer, not entirely sure what to do. Whatever he did, he had to get his mind off of his problems. Escape from them. So he did what he was famous for and began investigating things that needed to be investigated.

John Stewart tasted the bitter, coppery taste of blood on his lip. Sure enough, when he tapped his finger to it, it came away with blood. He pushed himself up off the floor, steadying himself from the dizziness that Bruce's punch had inflicted.

"Wonder if the other four interrogations ended like this," he grumbled to himself, wiping away more blood from his mouth. A red costume in the infirmary suddenly caught his attention, and it took John a few seconds to realize that it was Flash. Sitting in a chair. Completely still. Something definitely wasn't right.

He made his way toward the statue of Wally, remembering Bruce saying something about a puddle of Flash in the infirmary. Oh no. Bruce got to him.

"Hey hotshot," John said upon entering.

His voice made Flash jump. "Oh. Hey."

"Everything ok in here?"

"Uhuh…" he nodded absentmindedly, staring off into the distance.

Yeah, Bruce got to him. "Wally?"

"Huh?" breathed Flash.

"Wally."

This time, the speedster actually made eye contact. "What?"

"Any particular reason you're sitting here in the infirmary by yourself?"

Flash wrung his hands nervously. "I uhh…have a confession to make," he squeaked. "I just really need to get this off my chest."

"I'm all ears."

"You have to promise not to get mad, though."

"Did you eat everything in the kitchen again?" he teased.

"N-no…it's nothing about that."

_Did Bruce make him piss himself? _ "Then what is it?"

Wally's face was wrought with guilt. "Ok, well…I'm kind of…datingtwowomenatthesametime."

**x.x.x**

Until next time!

There's still a debate on the 32nd flavor of Baskin Robbins ice cream from the last chapter. Tell me what you think it should be, no matter how crazy. Currently, I'm thinking something along the lines of an alcohol-flavored ice cream. Sangria, anyone? Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading! Review por favor?


	6. Chapter 6

Whoopee! Here's chapter six, everyone. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

The night sky of Gotham City blazed red from the pollution of millions. But it went unnoticed as four unassuming civilians dined on the deck of an upscale restaurant in the midst of the seventy-degree weather. The red haired man at the table received several curious glances from people wanting to know just how he had obtained that enormous purple bruise over his cheekbone.

The dark haired woman at his side plunged her fork into the food on his dish, taking for herself a piece of chicken and popping it into her mouth.

"Well?" asked Vic, looking at Helena expectantly.

She relished in the taste of the savory meat for a few seconds. "Yep. Definitely laced with genetic reconfiguring spores," she said seriously.

Across the table, Oliver Queen started to chuckle, causing Dinah and Helena both to chime in with laughter.

Vic sneered. "Very funny."

"Do you make your girlfriend taste all your food like that whenever you go out to eat?" asked Ollie.

"No!" Vic said. "Only at restaurants I haven't previously deemed trustworthy."

"How do you 'deem them trustworthy' then?"

"Well, I first investigate the owners and managers to see if they have any ties to secret groups or agencies such as the Illuminati or the KKK. Once that's cleared, I find out where the meat and other products originally come from, then I can research that specific plant or factory and decide whether or not the food is safe."

Both Ollie and Dinah stared at him. Helena just sat there shaking her head. "What if one of the waiters slips some poison into your food?" asked Dinah.

"I also do background checks on all employees associated with the restaurant."

Helena rolled her eyes. "There are only a few restaurants in the whole damn city he's actually wiling to go to."

"Talk about a tough date," snorted Dinah.

"It's not my fault so many of them hire Hitler Youths to bus their tables," said Vic defensively.

"Just eat your food, baby doll," said Helena sweetly, taking one of his hands and pressing it to her lips.

Vic smiled at her. "Ok," he replied dreamily.

The four of them continued eating, talking about politics and various things, until a spotlight appeared above them against the clouds. A spotlight in the shape of a bat.

Looking at his watch, Vic frowned. "It's not even eleven o'clock yet."

"Gordon must have his hands full already," said Dinah.

"How come none of you guys have your own personal spotlights?" asked Ollie. "Sure, maybe you haven't been here as long as dear ol' Bats, but the three of your are prominent faces, err, or non-faces, in this city."

"It's because the Commish trusts Batman more than anyone," sighed Helena. "But he's the freakin' Batman. He's saved Gotham more times than all of us put together."

"Not to mention the world a few times as well," added Vic.

"Does Gordon know Bats and Bruce Wayne are the same person?" whispered Ollie.

"I don't think so," said Helena. "If he did, he'd probably trust the Bat a lot less. I mean, Bruce Wayne is famous for being an egotistical womanizer, two traits that aren't so high up on the 'How to be a Good Superhero' list."

"It's just a cover. The playboy is the mask, but Batman is the real Bruce," said Vic.

"Except how do you know he doesn't enjoy having those beautiful women on his arm all the time?" said Ollie with a sly grin, for which Dinah punched him in the ribs.

"Because none of those women are Diana."

The other three couldn't argue with that. No one could.

"Are those two ever going to work out their…problems?" asked Dinah.

"The only problem is him," said Helena. "He's afraid of commitment."

"How'd she fall in love with him in the first place?" Dinah asked. "He's an emotional wasteland for Christ's sake."

Ollie leaned into her. "Same way you fell in love with me, pretty bird."

Dinah raised an eyebrow. "By almost getting you killed?"

She promptly received an eye roll. "I meant that he sacrificed things for her that he wouldn't have for anyone else."

"Like what?" she asked.

"His pride."

An empty silence followed Vic's words as they all considered the idea.

"How do you guys know so much about Batman and his love life, anyway?" asked Helena, breaking the pensive quietness. "Is it some kind of weird telepathic thing between men?"

Vic chuckled. "Not at all. We just understand what it means to sacrifice things for-"

"Important things," added Ollie.

"Yes, _important_ things, for the woman you love."

The two women shared a thoughtful glance, then looked back at the men. "And we _don't_ understand that kind of sacrifice?" shot Helena.

Ollie and Vic were both consumed with dread once they realized where the women were taking this. "N-no, no, that's not what we meant at all!" said Ollie.

Dinah set her fork down on the table a little more violently than necessary. "I swear to God, when it comes to men, everything, and I mean _everything_ is about them. How much they have to give, how hard they have to work…"

"You boys don't have the slightest idea what we women have to put up with when it comes to you hero types," said Helena. "You just go gallivanting around like you own the place, but then you get downright cranky when things don't go your way."

"You're like overgrown toddlers," finished Dinah.

After a few seconds of silent comprehension, Vic turned to Helena. "Then why do you do it? Why do you put up with me?"

His face was truly sad, almost scared. It ripped at Helena's heart whenever he looked at her that way – like a nervous puppy. She didn't really mean all of what she'd just said. A girl just needs to vent sometimes.

She put a hand against his bruised cheek, gently sliding her fingers over the damaged skin. He didn't even wince. "Because it's worth it," she whispered. At this, he smiled, and his entire face lit up. "If it wasn't, I'd dump your ass right here!"

They both laughed and turned to see how Ollie and Dinah had resolved things. They soon found out the two blondes had taken a somewhat different approach, since at the moment their lips were engaging in a fervent battle. Both Vic and Helena looked the other way.

Once Ollie and Dinah untangled their tongues, they pulled apart. "I know I'm a jackass sometimes," he said.

Dinah grinned. "Try _all _the time, babe." But something suddenly caught her eye over Ollie's shoulder. "Why is the Batsignal still on?"

Each looked up at the spotlight still moving against the clouds. "What, do they turn it off once he checks in or something?" joked Ollie.

"In a way, yeah," said Helena.

Vic looked at his watch once more. "It's usually not on for more than five or six minutes. It's been ten."

"Think something's wrong?" asked Ollie.

_If anything, it has to do with Diana, _thought Vic, remembering her and Bruce's squabble earlier in the night. He pulled out his phone.

Ollie frowned. "Are you gonna call him?"

"I can't use the commlink because…well, I never use it when I'm not working. It could be traced and…whatever, doesn't matter. But he carries a satellite communicator with him at all times, mostly for emergencies. It can't be traced or tapped, but I still don't want to risk it, so we have to speak in code."

"You guys are so nerdy," Helena chuckled.

"Hey, how come I don't have his satellite phone number?" Ollie complained.

Vic stared blankly at the archer. "Are you serious?"

"What!? Why do you get it and I don't? I'm friends with the guy, too!"

"Well, first of all, you're not a detective, and second of all, it only transmits to the East Coast, and I understand Star City to be on the West Coast."

These reasons were apparently satisfactory for Ollie because he was quiet after that. Vic dialed the fifteen-digit number and put the phone to his ear.

It was only a few seconds later when a disgruntled voice answered. "Yeah?"

"Uhh, Bruce? Yeah hi, it's Vic. I don't know if it slipped your mind or…something, but you have an appointment here in Gotham that you're uhh…a little late for."

After a few seconds of silence, Vic could hear a very distinct shuffling sound mixed with some vulgar language in the background.

"On my way," he finally said, sounding much more like the usual gruff dark knight. Vic cut the connection and put his phone away.

"Did he seriously forget about his own goddamn patrol!?" squawked Helena, trying to keep her voice down.

Vic nodded. "Something's definitely not right."

"What do you think it is?" asked Dinah.

Ollie looked to Vic for confirmation on his thoughts. When he got it, the archer spoke. "When the two of you were still down in the ring, me, Vic, John, Bruce and Wally all showed up at the arena just as the other women were walking out. Diana said the bad guys were already taken care of, and Bruce said something about not wasting his jet fuel next time, then Diana made a comment about not wanting to make a dent in Bruce's pocketbook, so Bruce asked her who paid for her jet fuel. Or somethin' along those lines."

Both Dinah and Helena's mouths fell open. "Are you kidding me!? He actually said that to her?" spat Helena.

They nodded. "Jesus. Bruce is ten times the asshole you'll ever be, hon," said Dinah to her boyfriend.

"But the moral of the story is, that whole saying, 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me,' doesn't really apply to this particular situation," summed up Vic.

"So now that the princess was lookin' all mortified and hurt in front of everyone, she flew off without saying another word and left Bruce to be mortified and disgusted with himself in front of everyone."

"Good. He deserves it, that dipshit," Helena grumbled.

"Then about ten seconds later he suddenly 'had some things to take care of' and bolted. We kind of assumed he went after her," said Ollie. "But we don't know what happened after that."

"Think they had hot make-up sex in the invisible jet?" joked Helena.

"I highly doubt that, love," said Vic. "But I do like the way you think. Maybe we could have ho-"

"Oook, I think it's time to go now," Ollie interrupted, standing up from his chair. He begrudgingly picked up the tab, cursing himself for losing the fight. In order to make himself feel better, he glanced at Vic's mutilated cheek. It worked. He felt much better.

As the four of them made their way out of the restaurant, a sleek black plane cut through the air above them, heading towards the Gotham City Police Headquarters. They watched the Batwing disappear into the smog.

"Hope he gets his act together," said Ollie, draping an arm around Dinah.

Vic intertwined his fingers with Helena's, squeezing a little tighter than usual. "He always does."

**x.x.x**

There you have it! Thanks for reading and the next chapter shouldn't be too long. Reviews always appreciated!


	7. Chapter 7

Here's chapter seven. Some of you have been asking me when the happy stuff will come. Let me just say that we are seeing Bruce and Diana's relationship in its most painful form. I don't want to give anything away so I'll shut up. Anyway, here it is.

Oh, and slight reference made to something said in the JL episode "The Terror Beyond." Enjoy!

**Chapter 7**

Diana gazed absent-mindedly down at her hands, turning them over in front of her. They were perfectly clean, considering she'd just stepped out of the shower. But she could still feel his blood trickling down her skin, and in her mind she could see the deep red. It made her sick every time the image came to mind. Not so much because of the blood, but because of what she had done. Her hands had spilt his blood. And that was unacceptable.

Still wrapped in a bath towel, her raven hair sopping wet, the princess sat at the edge of her bed, staring at nothing. Athena's armor had been carelessly thrown onto a chair before Diana rushed to the shower. She didn't have the energy to put it back on. She didn't have the energy to do much of anything, except sit and think.

All of the emotion that had been building up inside of her, stemming from the hundreds of times he'd denied her advances, finally came out in the form of aggression. She was ashamed. A man was the source and cause of her troubles. How unfitting for an Amazon warrior, descendent of royalty.

But as she dwelt on how shameful her behavior had been, she couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself. Only a little.

She wished J'onn was here. He always knew exactly what to say in every situation. And she desperately needed his empathetic guidance, now more than ever. But he was out there somewhere, finding himself. She hoped he was happy, wherever the Martian be. Who else would be as understanding?

Clark was understanding, but Diana couldn't burden him with this. His two best friends battling it out with hearts and fists? No, he had enough on his plate as it was.

Shayera was…well, Shayera was Shayera. And her mace was like a third arm. If Diana explained to her what had happened, the Thanagarian would probably suggest getting drunk to forget about men, or offer to whack Bruce with her third arm. Neither of those promised a positive outcome.

Wally, she feared, wouldn't be able to take things as seriously as they needed to be. Or stay quiet about it. But if she needed a laugh, she knew where to go.

Diana wouldn't dare bother John with all of this. He had his own heartbreak to deal with.

There weren't many others who knew of Batman's identity. Ollie knew. She was sure the Question had known for probably as long as she has, and Huntress and Black Canary as well, considering they all work in Gotham. But Diana wouldn't go to them for advice on Bruce. Zatanna maybe? She had helped defeat Circe, although, she hadn't been the one singing.

The princess sighed as she went over the roster of her co-workers. But she wanted to talk to someone real, someone not weighed down by superhero duties. Who was not a superhero, but knew that Batman was Bruce Wayne? Someone who knew the situation she and Bruce were in. Someone Diana could talk to freely, someone… And then it hit her. _Duh_, as people in man's world would say.

Within seconds, Diana had the Metropolis phone number dialed. "Hello?" answered a confident female voice on the other end.

"Hi, Lois? It's Diana."

"Diana, dear!" exclaimed Lois Lane. "I'm so glad to hear from you! How're you doing? How are things with…you know who?"

"Umm, that's actually why I'm calling. I was wondering if we could have lunch tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Oh, absolutely! Clark and I were going to order in to the Planet, but I get to see him every day of the week," Lois scoffed. "And I'm _pretty_ sure he'll understand when I say I'm ditching him for you."

Diana caught the subtle undertone in her voice and smiled. "Yes, I'm sure it won't bother him terribly much if I steal you away for an hour or so."

Lois giggled. "I know this great little Italian restaurant at the corner of 42nd and Main. Meet you at, say…12:30?"

"Sounds great, Lois. And thanks for fitting me in on such short notice."

"Fitting you in? Who am I, the president?" she laughed. "Anything for a friend in need."

Diana smiled again. "I really appreciate it. See you tomorrow."

"Take care, Diana."

"You too."

As the princess closed her phone, her smile hadn't yet faded. She felt a little better already, knowing Lois would have a good, realistic opinion on the matter. And besides, Lois knew how Bruce was. Maybe not in the same capacity that Diana did, but she knew.

Rising up off the bed, she slipped into a nightgown and combed through her hair. The armor was still piled in a colorful mess, so Diana straightened it out and hung it up, thanking Athena for the wisdom and courage the goddess bestowed upon her every day.

Although it was still relatively early to go to bed, early being before midnight, Diana wanted this day to be over. Hurting her friends, whether consciously or unconsciously, was not something she enjoyed. So she turned off the lights and crawled under the covers, hoping tomorrow would not be so taxing on her, both physically and emotionally.

x.x.x

"Actually, there was this one time when I had to fake my death as Clark since someone put a bomb under my car and it would have jeopardized my identity if I'd survived the explosion and, well, it's a long story, but Lois was looking around my apartment a few days after my death for some evidence, and Superman happened to be there _looking for clues_ about who killed Clark too. She saw an old photo of the two of us at the Planet from a few months before and started crying. She said, and I quote, 'I always teased him. But I had so much respect. I liked him too, I really did. Wish I'd told him.'"

"You memorized her exact words?" said Shayera, trying not to laugh.

"Well, yeah! I'm a reporter. I have an excellent memory."

"Hmm, very smooth," she said. "But even if she didn't know your alter ego happened to be her personal guardian angel at the time, she definitely cared about you. And still does, I'm sure."

"Or maybe we're just good friends."

"You can lift an entire city with one arm, Clark. You're the most powerful being I've ever met. I think you just need to have a little confidence in yourself…yourself being Clark, that is."

He shrugged. "I suppose."

"Man of Steel, Heart of Mush," Shayera teased.

Clark laughed. "I'm just an old country bumpkin. So how've you been holding up lately?"

"Oh, you know me. I'll keep on truckin' no matter what hits me. Except this whole Carter Hall, Hawkman thing has kind of thrown me for a loop. Destiny and all that." She looked at Clark. "What do you think about destiny? Is it just bullshit?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like something Bruce would say."

"He actually used the word nonsense instead of bullshit," she admitted.

They both laughed. "I guess I believe in free will, for the most part. You make decisions based on judgment and go from there."

Shayera pondered the Man of Steel's ambiguous answer. "Are you_ ever_ going to get off the fence?" she teased.

"I do on occasion," he smiled, thinking back to the first time he'd heard Shayera ask that. Shayera thought Aquaman had gone bad, but Diana refused to believe it. Diana never thought ill of anyone back then. "How do you think she's doing?" he asked quietly.

The Thanagarian shrugged. "You could always just walk past her room and take a peek," she joked.

That actually wasn't such a bad idea. "Or a listen," said Clark.

"Wait, are you actually going to spy on her?" Shayera wore an expression that was somewhere between mild disbelief and approval.

"Guess I'm off the fence," he said with a grin. After looking around to make sure no one was in earshot, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Ok, I'll just listen outside her door for a few seconds, see if she's alright. Stay right here and try not to look suspicious, got it?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure, it's not like I'm an expert in espionage or anything," she scoffed.

Clark rolled his eyes and began a casual stroll out of the main bay. He passed a few personnel as he walked through the halls, but luckily no one was around the private quarters. When he got to Diana's door, he checked behind him to make sure he was alone, then began listening intently.

It was quiet for the most part, save for a steady heartbeat. She seemed to be breathing slowly but evenly. That was enough to tell him she was asleep. Satisfied with his superb spying skills, Clark sauntered back toward the main bay.

But as he walked by the heavy metal doors of the three separate monitor rooms, he heard something that made him stop. A low, muffled muttering was coming from one of them. He recognized the voice almost immediately. Now that curiosity had masked any form of guilt for spying, Clark peeked through the walls.

Sometimes he wished his hearing wasn't so good.

Inside the monitor room sat Batman, staring up at the computer screen in front of him, reading what looked like some kind of article. But his cowl was off. And he was whispering to himself. A single tear went sliding down his face. The image was…disturbing. Clark immediately retracted his x-ray vision and scurried back into the main bay, finding Shayera exactly where he'd left her.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong!?"

"Oh, uhh, nothing. Diana's fine. She's sleeping. But…"

"But what?"

"Bruce…he's…"

"Having a really tough day," said a third, booming voice. They turned to find John approaching them, Wally close behind. The Green Lantern looked genuinely pissed off while Wally looked downright scared.

"What's wrong with you two?" Shayera asked, picking up on the oddities. "John, what happened to your lip?"

Indeed, his bottom lip was cracked and bleeding. "I got a fist in my face, that's what happened. A Bat fist."

"He hit you?" asked Clark incredulously.

"And threatened Wally. The two of you wouldn't happen to know what exactly went on between Bruce and Diana tonight, would you? Because I'd love some explanations."

Shayera and Clark suddenly looked at each other, wondering if they should reveal what they had seen.

"Well…" But Shayera grew quiet as her eyes locked on a black figure running through the main bay. The three men followed her gaze.

They all grew tense as they watched Batman move swiftly into the hall leading towards the hangar, soon disappearing from sight.

"What the hell?" said John.

Shayera looked to Clark. "What were you going to say a few seconds ago?"

He bit his lip. "Come on," he whispered, motioning for the others to follow him.

"Where are we going?" said Shayera as he lead them aimlessly down a hallway. But the Kryptonian seemed to know what he was doing, since he slowly opened one of the monitor room doors and looked inside.

"Get in," he said. The others obeyed. Clark closed the door behind them.

"When I was coming back from checking on Diana, I…noticed that Bruce was in here and…he was reading something on the computer. An article, I think."

"So what? He reads stuff all the time," said Wally.

"Well, his cowl was off and he looked…sad." Clark didn't have the heart to mention the details.

John frowned. "We can search the history and find out what…"

But Shayera was already in the chair, bringing up the last page viewed on the computer. "Oh no…" she whispered.

The men looked from her saddened face to the screen, comprehension dawning on them. The article that Bruce had been reading was from the Gotham Gazette. The headline read "Wayne Heir Left Orphaned." Below it, the first few lines were in bold.

"Late yesterday evening, Dr. and Mrs. Thomas and Martha Wayne were shot and killed at gunpoint by an unidentified assailant outside the Monarch Theater. Their eight-year-old son, Bruce Wayne, was present during the incident, but unharmed. Although no official statement has been made, it is suspected that the family's longtime butler, Alfred Pennyworth, will remain with the boy in Wayne Manor, serving as permanent caretaker."

"Look at the date," said Clark.

"It's from thirty years ago," said John.

Shayera shook her head. "Almost. It will be in…fifteen days."

"Which means in two weeks…" whispered Wally.

Clark sighed. "It will be the thirty year anniversary of his parents' deaths."

**x.x.x**

I'm depressed. Review pretty please.


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry this one took a little longer, but here it is. And this chapter is mostly Question and Huntress, so my apologies to BMWW shippers. And I changed the premise of the ice cream a little bit. You'll have to read and find out what I did. And this chapter is a tad raunchy in some places. But Vic and Helena are kind of kinky, so I suppose it fits.

And thanks to all who reviewed!

**Chapter 8**

"Oh yes, right there, mhmm that feels phenomenal," Vic groaned, falling slightly to the side. "Oooh that's the spot, mhmmm, god that's amazing…you're so amazing…"

He ran his fingers down the sides of Helena's body, which was conveniently located in a straddled position on top of him. But she stopped the gentle movement of her fingers to stare at her slightly incredibly insane boyfriend.

Vic opened an eye. "What?" he asked when he noticed the irritated look she wore.

"If you want me to fix your damn face, stop moaning like we're having sex," she ordered before dabbing more Neosporin over the cracked skin on his cheek.

"Why? Is it turning you on?" he asked with an irresistible smirk.

She glared. "You're a sick bastard, you know that?"

Vic just chuckled and leaned his head back. "I'm well aware of the fact."

"All done," she said once she had finished, throwing the tube of Neosporin carelessly over her shoulder onto the kitchen table. Helena leaned forward and rested her arms on top of his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck. Their faces were inches apart. "I'm very sorry sir, but there wasn't much I could do to fix your condition. You're still the ugliest guy of all time," she sighed sadly.

"Isn't that a damn shame," Vic pouted, resting his hands against her hips. "Do you think my girlfriend will still want me?"

"Hmmm," she purred, closing the gap between their bodies. "That depends."

"On what?"

She smiled. "If this secret ice cream is as good as you say, and it really _can_ give me an orgasm, then I guess you'll be out of a job."

A cynical look marred his features. "Weren't you saying earlier that sexual climax by ice cream would not be as _fun_ as sexual climax by more…natural means?"

"Was I?" she asked, pretending not to remember. "Well, even if I did say something like that, it's not fair to just _assume_ that a theory is true until it's been proven."

"Proven?" he repeated.

She nodded. "I want you to prove to me that sexual climax by your so called natural means is, in fact, more pleasurable than sexual climax by ice cream."

He looked at her in utter disbelief before finally conceding to the challenge. "Alright. I'll play your game, you devil woman."

Helena grinned excitedly before letting him up out of the chair to retrieve the barrel of ice cream. Once a large scoop had been shoveled into a bowl, Vic grabbed a spoon and sat down next to Helena.

"That…looks like your everyday strawberry ice cream," she said once she saw the pink contents of the bowl.

"There's much more to it than what you see on the surface," he said, breaking off a bite-sized chunk with the spoon.

"If you say so," she sighed, opening her mouth.

Vic maneuvered the spoon past her lips and drew it back once they had clamped down around it. Less than half a second later, the pink substance that had previously been in her mouth was splattered all over his kitchen table.

"Told you," he laughed, watching Helena move to the sink with astonishing speed and gulp water right from the faucet.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" she shrieked. "That's the most _horrible_ thing I've ever tasted! You said it was supposed to be orgasmic!"

Vic just laughed harder. "Guess I _can_ weasel my way out of any situation."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You only told me that so I wouldn't kick the shit out of you for choosing the ice cream over me, didn't you?"

For the first time, Vic looked slightly remorseful. "Guilty as charged," he admitted. "And I humbly accept any consequences you choose to bestow upon me."

She considered his offer. "_Any_ consequences?"

Although the way she said it scared the living daylights out of him, he nodded.

Helena calmly sat back down in her chair, smiling menacingly at her petrified boyfriend. With one fluid movement of her hand, she slid the bowl of ice cream over to him. "Finish it," she said.

"Uhh, what?"

She smiled wider. "I want you to eat the rest."

"...the rest of what?"

"The rest of the that." She pointed at the remaining glob of disgustingness in the bowl.

"I don't know what that is."

"Neither do I. It tastes like freakin' Tabasco sauce and maple syrup. But you're going to eat it," she said, driving a finger into his chest.

"I don't want to."

"I don't care."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. But you're still going to eat it."

"Do I have to?"

"You stole it, you eat it, babe."

"Fine," he groaned, reaching for the spoon.

She picked it up before he did, however. "Ah ah ah. How do I know you're not just going to drop it on the floor?"

"Damn!"

"I know your tricks, mister," she scolded, scooping some ice cream into the spoon. "Now open up."

He begrudgingly obeyed, closing his eyes in preparation for the massacre of his taste buds. But when the substance entered his mouth, it wasn't cold like he expected. And it wasn't disgusting. It was smooth…warm…sweet…and very familiar. He opened his eyes to a pair of deep chocolate brown irises, their mischievous sparkle making his heart go wild. As her tongue paraded inside his mouth, sliding along his, other things within him went wild too.

Although he couldn't smile since his mouth was preoccupied, he did anyway and leaned forward just enough so that their lips touched. Helena took hold of his face, luckily not the injured area, and pulled him closer.

Once they broke apart, Vic was still smiling. Helena was too, but her eyes were closed and she seemed to be lost in a daze.

When she opened them, he said, "That was much better than what I was expecting."

"And are you satisfied?" she asked.

"Beyond satisfied. Ecstatic, really. But why did you change your mind about making me eat the ice cream? Or was this your plan all along?"

"_That_ is the question." Helena seemed very pleased with herself after delivering Vic's own signature line to him. She sat back in her chair and sighed contentedly.

"Ahh," he said, scratching his chin pensively. "I see. Making me eat that ice cream would mean that it would be in my mouth."

She stared blankly at him.

"And so if the ice cream was in my mouth, my mouth would taste like the ice cream."

Again, a blank stare.

"Which would make kissing me not as enjoyable and most likely somewhat nauseating."

A blinding smile. "Exactly," she said. "But I swear, Vic. Listening to you work your way to an answer is like going to hell and back."

"How do you know? Have you ever actually gone to hell and back?"

"Nope, but Shayera tells me it ain't pleasant."

"Oh yes, she traveled to the Underworld with Diana. I wonder what that was like…do you think they'd let me have a look around?"

Helena rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna guess no."

"Hmm. It's worth asking."

"Keep dreamin', baby doll. Keep dreamin'."

Vic sighed. "But you can't tell me, in hindsight, that my logic doesn't make perfect sense."

"Eating the ice cream means it would be in your mouth, and so if the ice cream was in your mouth, that means your mouth would taste like the ice cream? A first grader could figure that out."

"Sometimes the simplest solutions are, in fact, the most accurate."

"Uh huh. I have a question for you, then. Why haven't we made love yet tonight?"

It wasn't often that the Question was caught off guard by a question. This so happened to be one of those rare times. "Uhhhh," he hesitated. "Umm, I'm…heightening the suspense by…prolonging the uhh…the…verbal foreplay."

"Verbal foreplay?"

"Yes, verbal foreplay."

"Right. Well, if you don't hurry up and prove to me that sexual climax by Vic Sage is the best sexual climax there is, I'm going to force feed you that entire goddamn barrel of ice cream."

"Commence love making!" he blurted without a second thought.

Both Helena and Vic shot up from their chairs at exactly the same time, once again becoming fused at the lips. In the excitement, Helena grabbed his face, this time forgetting to avoid the wound.

"Oooow, ow ow ow!" he shrieked, un-suctioning himself from her.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" she laughed, unable to resist giggling at the not so graceful dance of pain he was currently performing. "Are you ok?"

He took a deep breath before fixing a startlingly sexy predatory gaze on her. "That's a good question. Shall we find out together?"

"Sick bastard," she chuckled before shoving him in the direction of the bedroom.

x.x.x

After getting through the morning's first moments of consciousness, remembering who she was, where she was, why she was, Helena noticed that a strange sound was reaching her ears. It was music. But where would music be coming from? A radio? An alarm clock? Oh, a phone. Where was the phone?

She sat up and followed the music, pinpointing it to its location on the floor next to the bed. A pants pocket?

Oh, duh. Vic's.

For a split second, her mind shivered in pleasure at the memories it held from the night before. Helena grinned and leaned over his sleeping form to retrieve the singing phone, recognizing the ringtone as 'Ride of the Valkyries.'

_Better than that creepy X-Files music,_ she thought.

Deciding not to answer it until she was in a comfortable position, she flopped back down into the exact position she awoke in, snuggled up against Vic, their legs intertwined.

Once she deemed herself ready to speak in coherent English, she answered.

"Hello? And why are you calling so freakin' early in the morning?"

There was a momentary pause on the other end. "It's after nine o'clock," came a rough, almost domineering voice.

"Mmm, I don't get up before double digits in the summer. Who the hell is this?"

"It's Bruce."

Helena had to think very hard for a moment before she connected the name with the face, the face with the…Bat.

"Oh. Huh. Wait, why are _you_ up so early? You're practically nocturnal."

"Unlike you, I don't get a summer vacation."

"Pfft. Well don't whine to me about it, grumpy butt. What do you want anyway?"

She swore she could hear his eyes roll over the phone. "I called Vic's phone because I want to talk to him. Where is he?"

Helena smiled. "Currently, he's in between my-"

"Forget I asked. Just give him the phone."

"Alright alright," she growled, running a finger up and down Vic's pectoral to wake him up. "Hey babe?"

"Mhmm?"

"You have a collect call from 1-800-bats-R-us."

A few seconds later, she was blinded by the blue of his eyes. Before handing him the phone, she gently placed a kiss over his wounded cheek and cuddled against his side.

"Bruce?" Vic mumbled into the phone.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"I…uhh, I need you to stop by the manor."

"Is there a problem?"

"A riddle."

"Nygma out of Arkham already?"

"He broke out."

"Still obsessive compulsive about leaving riddles and clues?"

"Yep."

"Alright. How soon do you need me?"

"Be here in an hour."

"Ok." Bruce hung up without saying goodbye. Not unusual, however.

Vic closed his phone and dropped it back onto the floor, rolling over to wrap his arms around Helena.

"Riddler?" she asked, semi-annoyed.

"Yep."

"How often does Bats ask for your help?"

"Only when his own insanity doesn't quite make the cut."

"So he calls you because you're an expert in insanity?"

"And I'm good at riddles."

Helena sighed. "Maybe if I hit you over the head you'll get stupider, then he won't have to interrupt our mornings 'cause you'll be stupid."

"Now there's some flawless logic," he teased, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Shut up," she laughed, punching him in the stomach. "When do you have to be over there?"

"An hour."

She rolled her eyes. "The great and powerful Batman grants you sixty minutes of freedom before he puts you to work."

"But the question is, what will I do with those sixty minutes?"

Helena smirked. "I can think of a few things…"

With that same predatory gaze, Vic rolled over on top of her. "I can think of one."

**x.x.x**

Fyi: Helena has her summers off because in the comics she is a schoolteacher.

Next chapter will have more BMWW stuff, I promise.

Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

Sorry for the wait, folks. Thanks to all who reviewed the previous chapters! Here's the next one.

**Chapter 9**

When the doorbell rang throughout Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth walked calmly to the front double doors, not needing to look through the peephole.

The butler pulled one of the doors open and, as expected, a casually dressed red-haired man was waiting on the landing. And, as expected, he wasn't exactly waiting patiently. He was slightly hunched over, peering at something next to the doors. The only thing of consequence in that general area was the doorbell.

"Are you sure this isn't bugged from the outside?" asked the man without looking up.

"Master Bruce has made certain that the entire manor, both inside and out, is completely bug-free. And I must express my intense surprise at your use of the front door. Is this the third time you've entered the premises without breaking and entering?"

"Fourth, actually." Vic Sage abandoned his investigation of the doorbell and made eye contact for the first time.

"Oh my," breathed Alfred upon seeing the massive bruise over his guest's cheek. "What in heaven's name happened to you?"

Vic shrugged. "Fight."

"Ah. I trust you were the victor, then? No pun intended."

"In fact I was," he affirmed happily, stepping into the manor.

"Excellent news, sir."

Mindlessly scanning for more nonexistent bugs along the walls and ceiling, Vic noticed the subtle music playing around him.

"Tchaikovsky?" he asked.

Alfred smiled. "Indeed. Master Timothy has been busy with the Titans, and with Master Bruce hibernating in the cave, I thought I'd treat myself and our depressing abode to some of the finest in classical compositions. It is beautiful, don't you think?"

"I prefer Verdi," Vic said, attempting to conceal the grin creeping across his face. His memory flashed back to a few months ago when he had snuck up on Helena in her apartment, catching her in the act of doing Tai Chi to Giuseppe Verdi's _La Traviata_ in her living room. Needless to say, when Vic butted in and synced his own movements with Helena's, it wasn't reminiscent of Tai Chi. At all. A shiver ran up his spine as the memory concluded with the image of the two of them passed out on the floor, completely naked, Verdi still playing in the background.

The strange look on the redhead's face did not go unnoticed by the butler. "I take it you have an affinity for Italians, then?" he asked, a hint of cunning in his polite voice.

Still lost in thought, Vic mumbled an answer. "Italians…yes…"

Alfred expected nothing less than the reaction he received, confirming his suspicions. "I say, Master Victor," he said mockingly, "your lack of subtlety, although faintly amusing, would not go over well with Ms. Bertinelli."

At the mention of Helena's name, Vic came out of his trance to the embarrassing realization that he was caught. "Uhh…" he mumbled, virtually speechless.

"Not to worry, though," said Alfred, making his way down the hall toward the grandfather clock. "Poor Bruce is overtaken with that same dazed, buffoonish grin whenever he has a certain Princess of the Amazons on his mind."

Still unable to speak, Vic followed the butler down the hallway.

"I just wish he'd take some initiative and act upon his affections for Miss Diana. They are no secret. And the man is not what you'd call a spring chicken, you know!"

Alfred sighed when he got to the clock, turning back to face the still-blushing Vic Sage.

"But you, my boy, have done very well for yourself. Perhaps you could even give the old Bat some advice on the _proper_ way to romance a beautiful heroine. You seem to have mastered that skill quite adequately, haven't you?" he said proudly.

"Uhh, yeah…guess I have," he mumbled stupidly, still processing all of Alfred's words.

"Oh, don't look so shocked, sir," he reassured the younger man. "I've been the Batman's butler for three decades, now. I am practically clairvoyant."

This provoked a laugh from the previously dumbfounded Vic.

Alfred slid the clock aside to reveal the hidden steel door to the Batcave, but he looked back before opening that, too. "Just a fair warning. He's been in a rotten mood all morning."

The curious detective in Vic came forward. "Why is that?"

"It could have something to do with the 8 AM board meeting he sat through, or it might be something else entirely. Something…closer to the heart, maybe."

Vic caught the subtle message in the elderly man's tone. Clairvoyant, indeed. "Hmm. Appreciate the heads up."

The steel door slid back and Alfred ushered him into the cave. "Always a pleasure, Master Victor," he said graciously.

"Thank you, Alfred."

The butler gave a nod and disappeared behind the door, leaving Vic alone at the top of the stairs.

He walked down the twenty-some steps into the cave, taking note of the eerie silence all around him. A group of bats hung from the stalactite jutting out from the high ceiling. The Batcomputer was on and humming softly, the bright screens supplying the only light in the cave. But the Bat himself was out of sight.

Once Vic had reached the bottom of the stairs, he wandered silently past the computer and around the corner. Unsurprisingly, he found a man-sized bat brooding in a stone chair, completely enveloped in shadows.

"You're late," came the familiar stiff voice.

He peeked down at his watch to discover that he was actually early. "I will be in four minutes. But I can leave and come back when it's fashionable."

"So it's going to be one of those days," Bruce grumbled.

"It's always one of those days."

"Yeah." A tired sigh came from the man in the shadows.

"Are you going to tell me why I'm really here, Bruce?"

The World's Greatest Detective was silent for a few moments as he adjusted to the fact that he was talking to the world's _second_ greatest detective. "Nygma got about a hundred feet out of Arkham before I caught him and dragged him back. Tried to convince me he was cured."

"Hurm. You've gotten better at warping the truth. Should've known."

"I didn't lie to you."

"You told me there was a riddle."

"There is a riddle, just not from him. More of a dilemma."

After careful consideration, Vic arrived at only one possible conclusion. "Did you really make me get out of a perfectly good bed in which a perfectly beautiful woman was sleeping just so you could ask me for relationship advice?" he asked calmly.

It was a wholly rational question the Question was asking – rational and accurate. The exact reason Bruce felt the humiliation creeping up his skin. There weren't many people who could reduce the Batman to complete mortification. Actually, there were about three. One was an elderly butler. One was an Amazon princess. And one was a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

"Yes."

Vic blinked a few times. "Oh. Ok. What's the riddle, then?"

And that was the exact reason he preferred being mortified by the paranoid conspiracy theorist. Vic never judged him.

Bruce rose from his chair and walked past the redhead toward the Batcomputer. "There a reason half your face is covered in black and blue?"

"Is that the riddle?" Vic joked.

"No. I'm just curious as to why you look like hell."

Vic let out an exasperated sigh as he wondered why people kept comparing him to the fiery depths of the Underworld. "I was quasi-forced into fighting Green Arrow."

"Those are Queen's knuckles carved into your cheekbone?" Bruce asked, typing something into the computer.

"Regrettably, yes. But my victory was carved into his ego."

The Bat gave a nod of approval. "You'll heal, he won't. Congratulations."

"Thanks." Vic watched patiently as Bruce maneuvered his way through cyberspace. "Are you tapping into the Watchtower surveillance records?"

"Confiscated footage."

"Oh, I like confiscated. Who confiscated it?"

"I did."

"Ah. Did anyone see it before you confiscated it?"

The momentary pause told him that was a _yes._ "Clark and Shayera," said Bruce, rather bitterly.

"But you're going to show it to me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Do you ever stop asking questions?"

Vic shrugged. "Questions are my modus operandi."

"It was rhetorical."

"I know."

"Showing you is easier than telling you."

"Hmm, interesting."

"Not really. Just watch, and _please,_ for the love of god, hold all smart-ass comments until the end."

"Well, since you asked so nicely…"

Bruce clenched his jaw and forced himself to start the clip before he could change his mind. Showing really was easier than telling.

Once the alleged confiscated footage from the Watchtower surveillance records began to play, Vic realized he was not looking at the inside of the Watchtower, but the inside of a plane. It didn't resemble a Javelin, but it was too big to be the Batwing. The only other plane linked to the Watchtower was…Wonder Woman's invisible jet. The numbers at the bottom of the screen indicated the date and time. This was from the night before. And just as he was about to make a smart-ass comment regarding the setting of this confiscated footage, Vic heard a voice.

The next few minutes were characterized by complete silence, save for the voices coming from the computer. Bruce pretended to be invisible while Vic watched what was happening on the screen. He stopped the clip once the blood began cascading down Diana's arm and waited for a response.

When he didn't get one for quite some time, he grew irritated. "Well?"

"Why did you stop it?"

Irritated was now a bit of an understatement. "That was the end," he retorted harshly.

"Uh huh…" Vic prodded.

A very audible grunt came from the man in the chair before he reluctantly resumed play. Half a minute later, after the knight had retreated and the princess had begun to cry, the screen went to static.

"There. Satisfied?" shot Bruce.

"Indeed."

"And?"

"And it appears that you and Diana are making progress."

"You call that progress?"

"Yes. What would you call it?"

"I don't know," he grumbled, dropping his head into his heads. "A disaster?"

"Not necessarily."

"Why do you say that?" Bruce asked impatiently.

Vic cleared his throat, preparing to provide an explanation. "Well, she successfully provoked you into going after her and apologizing."

Bruce stared blankly. "So?"

"How often do you run after people, let alone apologize to them?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Progress."

"Fine."

"Then, of course, she rejected your apology, provoking you even further. And when she told you to leave, you didn't. Why?"

"I don't know," he replied curtly.

"Yes you do."

Bruce sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Because…I wanted to provoke _her._ I wanted…_needed_ to see some kind of emotion, even if it was anger. Anything but that damn apathy."

"She's been dealing with your apathy for years. You couldn't handle hers for five minutes."

"My apathy was for her protection!"

"Protection from what? From you?"

"Yes! And…and the pain of losing someone you love."

"She's going to lose you, regardless."

"I _know_ that, but…"

"But what? You don't think she'll be able to cope with your death if you let her love you?"

"You don't know what it's like!" Bruce snarled, rising from his chair. For the first time, there was enough light for Vic to see the large, stitched wounds on Bruce's neck. "You don't know what it's like to lose the only two people in the world that mattered to you! No one deserves to be put through that misery."

"But that isn't stopping you from making Diana miserable, is it?" asked Vic, calmly as ever.

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Obviously one you haven't considered."

"Quit the bullshit. What are you talking about?"

Vic sighed and stepped up to the Batcomputer. After rewinding the footage to where he wanted it, he let it play.

"So why won't you just put me out of my misery?" came Diana's voice. "Tell me, tell me you don't love me. Say it! SAY IT!"

Vic stopped it and turned back to Bruce, who was busy staring at the floor. "But your response…was no."

"That's different," he grumbled.

"It's the same!"

"It's for her own good!" Bruce yelled, making eye contact once again.

"That's not your decision to make."

"Why not!? If I can prevent her from having to go through the pain of my death, then I will. And if she doesn't have me, she can't lose me."

"Bruce, someone doesn't have to be dead for you to lose them. She is losing you _now_."

The defiant Bat made no response. But the human inside was threatening tears. Bruce blinked a few times to force them back.

"Perhaps you'll understand once you've lost the only person in the world that matters to you," Vic finished. Figuring this was an adequate time to depart and leave Bruce to brood, he turned and headed for the stairs.

"I'm…losing myself," came Bruce's voice from behind him. It was rough, almost a whisper.

Vic turned back. "Then let her help you," he said before starting up the stairs.

"Sage," Bruce called after him. "Are you happy with Helena?"

He smiled. "I've never been happier."

x.x.x

"I was starting to worry that Batman took you hostage!" called Helena when Vic arrived home.

"You'd level the mansion if he did," he laughed. He found her curled up on the couch in his living room. "Needless to say, it'd be a bad decision on his part."

"_Really_ bad," she said, standing up to stretch. "So what kind of mumbo jumbo did the Riddler cook up this time?" she asked.

But she never received an answer. Before she had time to process anything, his lips were pressed against hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Helena coiled her own arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

When they broke apart several seconds later, Vic just stared at her, absorbing her beauty.

"Everything ok, baby doll?" she asked, placing her hand against his bruised cheek.

"I love you, Helena."

"I love you too, Vic," she said sweetly, claiming his lips for another long kiss.

Several, _several_ seconds later they broke apart again. "Remember that time I caught you doing Tai Chi to Verdi?"

**x.x.x**

Yeah, I just can't resist when it comes to Question and Huntress. Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for all the reviews everyone! They make me happy. Here's chapter ten!

**Chapter 10**

"So Lois, what's it going to be today?" asked Clark Kent. "Thai? Italian? Chinese? Oh, Chinese sounds good."

Lois Lane didn't look up from her computer to acknowledge the mild mannered reporter standing beside her desk. "Oh, uhh, yeah, about that. Look, Smallville. I've got a lunch date at 12:30."

"Lunch _date?" _A pang of jealousy reverberated through his Kryptonian self. "With who?"

"A super strong, super fast Justice Leaguer, that's who."

The jealousy was suddenly replaced with anxiety as Clark wracked his brain for any memory of making a date with Lois as Superman.

"With Superman?"

"Are you kidding? I can't just go to lunch with Superman. Even if he were wearing a disguise, you'd imagine people would be able to recognize him. He's Metropolis' poster boy. Heck, he's the world's poster boy!"

"Uhh…yeah."

"But, then again, people in this city are probably too preoccupied to take a second look at some random civilian. So he might be able to get away with it."

Clark blinked. "Uhh…ermm…"

"Anywho, I'm grabbing a bite with Wonder Woman," she said nonchalantly.

The fear that Lois somehow knew his secret was suddenly forgotten. "You're meeting Di- err, Wonder Woman for lunch?"

"I sure am."

"Oh. I didn't know the two of you were…so close. How long have you had this planned?"

"She gave me a call last night."

"She called you? Last night?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"At what time?"

Lois raised an eyebrow. "Why do you need to know?"

Oops. "I, uhh…I don't. Just curious, is all."

"Right, well I better get going," she said quickly, pretending to check the time. "Wouldn't want Wonder Woman to think I stood her up for Clark Kent."

"Umm, yeah…" he mumbled. "Tell her I say hi."

Lois rolled her eyes and waved over her shoulder as she walked away. "I'll be sure to do that, Smallville."

Clark smacked his palm to his forehead. "_Tell her I say_ _hi? _Where in heaven's name did that come from!? Holy moly, Kent, you're losing it."

"Hey Clark!" came another voice. The Man of Steely business attire looked up to find Jimmy Olsen walking toward him. "I heard Lois ditched you for Wonder Woman, but I'm totally up for Chinese if you are!"

x.x.x

The host working at the Italian restaurant _Bel Piatto _in the heart of Metropolis mindlessly doodled in the margins of the reservation sheets. Some spirals here, some zigzags there…

"Excuse me, I have a reservation."

The sharp voice made him jump, the jump made his pencil break. Wonderful. He sighed.

"Name please?"

"Lois Lane."

Lois Lane? That sounded familiar. When he looked up at the dark haired woman whose lavender eyes were looking back at him impatiently, he blinked.

"Buongiorno, Miss Lane," he finally replied smoothly, straightening up to his full height. "How may I help you this afternoon?"

Lois Lane clenched her jaw. First Clark and now this bozo. Was it really so difficult for the male sex to _listen?_ "I said I have a reservation. Twelve thirty."

The host blinked a few more times before comprehending and looked down at his reservation sheet. "Reservation for two at twelve thirty," he read.

She refrained from making a snide remark regarding his level of intelligence and just smiled. "Yes."

"Very good, we have your table ready for you. Right this way please." The host walked lithely out in front of Lois and led her to a table in the corner. "Here you are, Miss Lane," he said, presenting her to the table he so proudly led her to.

"Thanks," she replied, taking a seat.

"Have a pleasant meal," he purred, quickly scanning the reporter's legs before walking away.

Lois let out an irritated sigh. "Men."

After happily returning to his counter and continuing his doodle with a new pencil, the host was once again met by another voice.

"Excuse me? I'm meeting Lois Lane at twelve thirty."

This voice was softer, smoother. When his eyes met those of the beauty before him, he stared.

"Buhh…umm…uhh…"

The blue-eyed woman in front of him cocked her head in confusion at his response.

"Diana!"

Her eyes shifted from the host to the source of the voice that had called her name. When the beautiful woman walked away, he continued to stare after her until she sat down…across from Lois Lane…who was now glaring at him. The host immediately returned to his doodling.

"Thank you for meeting me, Lois," said the princess.

"Oh, please," laughed Lois. "You're a woman after my own heart. It's the least I can do."

"I hope Clark wasn't too heartbroken."

"Nah, he took it like a champ. But we'll get to him later," she dismissed with a wink. "Right now, let's talk about you. Did something happen with Bruce?"

Diana sighed sadly. "We had a little…fight."

"Fights can be healthy," Lois offered. "Gives you a chance to let off some steam."

"This one wasn't at all healthy, and I let off more of a volcano than just some steam."

"Well, when it comes to Bruce, it _does_ take a river of piping hot lava to get him to budge. Anyway, he probably deserved what he got."

The princess rested her head against her palms. "I don't know, Lois. I snapped, and I'm…ashamed of myself."

"Diana, even if you tossed him through a wall, you'd still be the most honorable, dignified, magnificent woman he's ever been lucky enough to have met."

At this, Diana looked up, her face drawn. "Even if I tossed him through a wall?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Lois, reading her expression. "Did you?"

"Not exactly…"

"Did you kick him in the groin?" she asked excitedly.

"No, I didn't do that," Diana laughed. "But I did try to…choke him."

Lois beamed at her. "You've taken the saying 'I'm going to wring your neck' to new heights!"

"It's not the proper way an Amazon should deal with her emotions."

"Honey, Amazon or not, it's incredible that you've kept your cool for as long as you have."

"But I shouldn't have resorted to aggression," she said sheepishly.

"We all do things we regret, whether it's roughing up Bruce Wayne or dating Lex Luthor. God knows I've had my fair share of screw-ups. But what matters the most is how you bounce back."

The princess considered this. "I suppose you're right, Lois."

"Trust me, you'll know what to do when the time comes."

Diana sighed. "You know, I haven't even told you why I snapped in the first place."

"It doesn't matter," Lois laughed. "I'll always be on your side when it comes to this. It takes a whole hell of a lot to be able to stand both Bruce Wayne _and_ the Bat, let alone love them, err, him. You should get the Nobel for that!"

Both women giggled. Diana felt some of her anxiety from the previous night's events melting away.

Lois grinned and leaned forward. "But I do love a good story."

It took Diana up until their food arrived to relay all of what had happened with Bruce, from what had been said in the parking garage to what hadn't been said in the jet.

"And seeing his blood all over my hands completely unsettled me."

"I don't blame you. What happened after that?"

"Umm, he left." Diana didn't really know why, but she chose not to reveal the last thing Bruce had said to her.

Lois raised an eyebrow as if she knew there was something the princess hadn't told her, but didn't press the matter further. "Well, he wouldn't say he didn't love you. That's a big step."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Diana said.

Lois shook her head in exasperation. "But this is totally a no-brainer. Why doesn't he, pardon my French, but I think the phrase is, _jump on it?"_

Diana could feel her cheeks blush. "I'm not sure. I know this sounds crazy but I get the feeling he's…waiting for something."

"He hasn't made you wait long enough as it is?"

She shrugged. "It's like he's stalling or waiting for something to pass before…"

Diana's words registered in her own mind. _Waiting for something to pass…_ But she quickly shoved the thought to the back of her mind.

"…Before he _jumps on it_," she covered.

Lois chuckled. "It sounds so wrong when you say it!"

"It sounds wrong when anyone says it," she laughed. "But enough about me. Is it _later_ enough to talk about Clark yet?"

"I did say we'd get to him later, didn't I?" Lois recalled.

"Yes, but we don't have to talk about it if-"

"No no, it's okay," she sighed. "It's not like I have anyone else to talk to about this."

"What do you mean?" Diana asked, playing dumb just in case.

"Bottom-line, I know his secret."

"What secret?"

Lois rolled her eyes. "The one about him _not_ being human."

"Oh. I just had to make sure. How long have you known?"

"A while, I guess. I've always been suspicious. It wasn't so much the glasses and dorky suit that kept me from figuring it out, but the fact that Clark is just so _different_ from Superman. He's timid and soft-spoken, while Superman is…not. He grew up on a farm! In Kansas! Superman is from another planet for Pete's sake."

"You sound unhappy about all this."

"I'm not unhappy about that, really. Actually it does make me feel a lot less sleazy since I had feelings for both of them at the same time but-"

"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted Diana. "Feelings for _both?_ You mean you had feelings for Clark before you found out who he was?"

This time it was Lois' turn to blush. "You'd never know it," she said. "Especially with all the teasing I do. But I've always had a soft spot for him. He's just so innocent and pure. Everything I'm not. Then he goes and squeezes me out of a byline," she said bitterly. "Who knew some yokel from Smallville could give 'Lois Lane, star reporter' a serious reality check?"

"He gave you competition," said Diana with a smile.

"Yep. Came and knocked me off my high horse. And I know it sounds corny but I'm a better person because of it."

"It's not corny, it's Clark," Diana shrugged.

"Yes it is," laughed Lois. "The big lug has always been there. I've dragged him all over the place. I almost feel like I've corrupted him over the years, but I'm beginning to think that's just as impossible as trying to hurt Superman with a bullet."

"He's a good man," said Diana.

Lois sighed. "One of the best…but then there's Superman," she whispered.

"He's a good man, too."

"Yeah, but how far can I get in a relationship with someone I only know by _Superman_ or _Kal-El? _Especially when I know his name is Clark!"

Diana looked sympathetically at the woman across from her. Clark was Bruce's polar opposite, but she felt Lois' frustration regardless.

"I just wish he'd tell me sometime before old age sets in," said the reporter.

"You don't want to tell him that you know?"

"No. He needs to be the one to do it."

"But you can't wait forever," said Diana sadly.

"Not all of us are immortal," she smiled.

"I'm sure he will tell you soon," Diana reassured her, praying to the gods that Clark _does_ reveal his secret to her sometime in the near future.

Lois sighed. "Even if I'm prepared for it, I'll probably still break down into tears."

"You love him, don't you?" Diana didn't specify which 'him' she meant, Clark or Superman. But she didn't need to.

Lois looked down at her hands. "Yes. I do."

x.x.x

"Hey Smallville."

Clark looked up as Lois walked by his desk and sat down at her own. "Oh, hi Lois. How was lunch?"

"It was great," she said nonchalantly, turning on her computer. "Sorry for bailing on you, by the way."

"That's ok. Wonder Woman probably had important things to discuss with you."

Clark hoped that Diana was able to get some of the things from last night off her chest. But when he noticed Lois looking at him strangely, he knew that was probably a dumb thing to say. He nervously readjusted his glasses.

"Like…hero business and…stuff like that," he stuttered.

"Hero business?"

"Yeah. I don't know anything about that. I mean, I see the League on the news but...man, those heroes sure are something!"

"Right," she said, narrowing her eyes at him before looking back to her computer screen. "You want to know what we really talked about, Smallville?"

"Uhh, gee Lois, I don't-"

"We talked about men."

Clark gulped. "Men?"

**x.x.x**

Lois is so sassy! Tell me what you think though, because I don't feel as confident about this chapter as the others. Thanks for reading. Until next time!


	11. Chapter 11

Hey everyone, thanks for the reviews. I know a lot of you have told me that there aren't enough BM/WW moments, but I promise, there will be! Sorry to all of you. Here's the next chap.

**Chapter 11**

It was nearing seven o'clock PM Eastern Standard Time and a dark knight sat brooding on the Watchtower. Although not terribly concerned, he honestly wondered if the other five founders would show up for the weekly founders' meeting scheduled for seven.

Bruce had been in the main conference room for a few hours already checking up on various files and mission reports. When he skimmed over the report about Roulette's Glamour Slam fiasco, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary: one illegal fighting ring, five brainwashed superheroines, two bad guys apprehended. He was just about to move on to the next one when he noticed what was written on the bottom.

_Additional notes: Batman may be suffering from Schizoid Personality Disorder, so characterized by his lack of interest in social relationships, tendency towards a solitary lifestyle, secretiveness, and emotional coldness. For further reference, please see the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Axis II. Approach said person with extreme caution. [Usercode 007]_

"Damnit, Shayera…" he growled, clenching his fists until they cramped.

Fortunately, the sound of doors sliding open kept him from slamming his clenched, cramped fist into the computer screen. Unfortunately however, Clark walked through with a very apprehensive Wally behind him.

Neither of them spoke as they sat down at the circular conference table. Bruce turned back to the computer in order to avoid any kind of unnecessary communication.

One of the two super-powered heroes behind him began to tap their fingers on the table at an exceptionally fast, and exceptionally annoying, speed. But Bruce knew that was Flash's nervous tick. He only had to turn his head slightly, and the noise stopped. But the peace and quiet didn't linger for long. The doors slid open again to reveal a stern looking Green Lantern.

Figuring it was probably time to face three of the five people he might have pissed off yesterday, he got up from his seat at the computer and took one at the table. A seat that had an empty one on either side. Without making eye contact, he could see that John was two chairs to his right, while Clark was two chairs to his left, Wally sitting next to Clark on the other side. One of the two remaining pissed off people were going to be doomed to a chair next to the Bat.

When the doors slid open a third time, Bruce's heart jumped slightly, but he clenched his jaw. It wasn't even Diana walking through the door. A very content looking Thanagarian traipsed in, swinging her mace freely about.

Shayera didn't only receive the first eye contact of the day from the dark knight, but the first Batglare. She smiled back indifferently, walking _past_ the empty seat between Wally and John, instead taking the one to Bruce's right, propping her mace up against her chair leg, coincidentally so on her left side. Bruce didn't believe in coincidence.

He didn't dwell on it for very long. The doors slid open for a fourth time, revealing a seemingly placated Amazon princess. Even though it had been quiet for the past few minutes, the silence seemed to become amplified. The only sounds were the distinct clapping of heels against the floor. Bruce didn't expect Diana to take the empty seat beside him, and she didn't disappoint.

As she sat down between Wally and John, she gave the Green Lantern a confused look. "That's a nasty cut, John."

He blinked and touched his lip. "Oh, uhh…yeah. I…ran into a shelf."

Shayera coughed in order to conceal her laughter. Bruce clenched his jaw tighter.

"That's too bad," said Diana, turning her sights to a dark person across from her. One who was conveniently fixated on the table's surface.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce could see that both Clark and Shayera kept looking towards him, then towards Diana, then back to him.

"So, what's on the agenda this week?" Clark asked finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Not much," Bruce said, abruptly deciding that two thirds of this week's agenda wasn't imperative to the meeting. "Luthor's secret society."

"We still don't know its location," John sighed.

"You said it was in a swamp?" Bruce asked, directing the question at Flash.

Wally shifted nervously. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Great. That narrows it down to six of the seven continents," said Shayera.

"And Grodd's cloaking technology will make it impossible to find," said Diana, looking towards Batman.

The momentary eye contact all but paralyzed Bruce. The soft blue of her eyes melted his insides. Shayera nonchalantly touched her mace, while Clark tapped his finger on the table in rhythm with Bruce's accelerating heartbeat.

"We'll continue to monitor all criminal activity closely to see if any of them slip up," said the Bat.

"That it?" asked John.

Bruce just nodded, expecting an argument from the marine regarding the lack of a more genius plan to catch Luthor and his cohorts.

"Good. I want to talk about this Hawkman character."

Shayera rolled her eyes. "Oh, here we go!"

"I don't like him. Gives me the creeps."

"John, he's harmless," said Shayera.

"He's delusional."

"Carter's just a little confused."

"Then maybe we should set the record straight for _Carter."_

"Why are you so concerned about this?"

"Because he's a major head case!"

"We can't do anything about it," Bruce interrupted. "If he wants to play dress up, let him. He poses no immediate threat."

"Yeah, until he kidnaps Shayera."

"Trust me, he ain't gettin' that close."

"What if he tries to drug you?"

"Oh, now who's being delusional?"

"Are we done yet?" asked Flash, who looked like he would love nothing more than to escape. Both John and Shayera stopped their bickering for the speedster's sake.

"There's one more thing," said Bruce. "A readmission request for Huntress came in today."

"From Question?" Clark asked.

"Black Canary."

"Canary? I thought she hated Huntress," said Shayera.

"They must have mended things after last night's Metabrawl," Diana reasoned.

Bruce didn't want to linger on anything that had to do with last night. "We have to take a vote," he said.

"I vote in favor of her readmission," Shayera declared proudly.

"What?" John snapped. "She tried to kill a guy!"

"The guy who murdered her parents," she shot back.

"Justice and vengeance aren't the same thing," Bruce said forcefully. A little too forcefully, perhaps.

Diana looked at him sadly. "She disobeyed J'onn's direct order."

"I disobeyed his orders once," Wally pointed out. "And I could have really screwed it up bad. Like, handing Apokolips over to Granny Grossness, bad. But I'm still here."

Shayera shot Flash a look that said 'we know, so shut up.' He stuck his tongue out at her.

"She did help with the Cadmus crisis," Clark offered.

John huffed. "She helped her boyfriend. Couldn't care less about anyone else."

"That's not true. She found out about Roulette's mind control and helped us shut her down," said Shayera.

"Oh, excuse me, she has a smidgen of a conscience," sneered John.

"If we let her back in, she can keep an eye on Question and make sure he doesn't do anything…extreme," said Clark. "Two in favor."

"Three," said Wally.

None of the remaining three added a fourth vote. Diana considered it for a few seconds, but the moral code ingrained in her mind told her no.

"It was a lot easier when we had an odd number," John grumbled.

Bruce begrudgingly put a hand to his com-link. "Question, this is Batman."

"…duct tape, electrical tape, foam tape…"

"Question?"

"…scotch tape, masking tape, athletic tape…"

"Question…"

"…cloth tape, why are there so many…"

"Vic!"

"Huh?"

"Main conference room. Now."

"Why?"

"Don't argue. Just get in here."

"…Fine."

The founders grew silent after that. Ever since Cadmus had tortured the mysterious faceless man, no one made comments pertaining to his unconventional behavior. Not even Wally.

When the doors slid open a minute later, the Question, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, stepped in and surveyed the scene in front of him. "I plead the Fifth," he said.

Flash, Superman and Shayera all chuckled quietly. The other three didn't. This told Vic who was on his side.

"We're not going to interrogate you," said the Man of Steel.

"Discussing secrets and lies then, are we? I'm flattered to be invited."

"Sit down," Bruce growled.

Vic eyed the empty seat between Batman and Superman. "Do I have to?"

"Just do it before he throws a shit fit the size of Uranus," Shayera suggested.

He shrugged and took a seat. "Not that I don't enjoy sitting with you people who, in another dimension, ruled over the world with an iron fist, but…why am I here?"

"Hey, that whole iron fist thing was their idea," Flash declared defensively. "I had nothing to do with it. I was dead in that dimension!"

Clark gave him a pat on the back. "We know, Wally. We know."

"Okay, just wanted to clear that up."

"We need your vote to break a tie," said Bruce rather impatiently.

Vic blinked under the mask. "Hmm. That's a new one. Why me?"

"The proposition we're voting on requires your _personal_ opinion," said Shayera.

"Is this about the aglets conspiracy?" he asked eagerly.

Flash frowned. "What are aglets?"

"The plastic tips on the ends of shoelaces. They're sinister."

Wally nodded and made an "oh" with his mouth.

"This is a bit more personal than aglets," said Shayera.

"Black Canary requested Huntress' readmission," Bruce interrupted.

A vacuum of silence filled the room. Everyone stared at the faceless man, awaiting his reaction. And to everyone's surprise, he began to laugh. Hearing a man without a face laugh was almost as bad as hearing Batman laugh, if that ever were to happen.

"What's so funny?" John asked.

The laughter ceased. "Did any of you consider the fact that she might not want to come back?"

"That's moot. We still have to vote," rumbled Bruce, anxious to be finished with the dilemma.

"Can it, Bats," Shayera ordered. She looked back toward Vic. "Does she?"

He didn't reply immediately. "She…says she doesn't."

"But?" prodded Clark.

"How do you know there's a but?"

The Man of Steel rolled his eyes. "There's always a but."

"Herm."

"She says she doesn't want readmission but…you don't believe her, do you?" Diana deduced.

Vic noticed that the princess was looking at him sympathetically, as if she knew Helena was his whole heart. "No," he said quietly.

"Then how come you never requested her readmission?" Shayera asked.

Vic sighed. "I almost did, several times in fact. I told her I would harass you all until you agreed to let her back in, if that was what she wanted. But she said no. She didn't want me debasing myself on her behalf. Like I give a damn about that."

"Well, why didn't you just do it anyway if you knew she wanted back in?" Flash asked.

The faceless man was quiet for a moment. "Because I already knew how the vote would turn out," he said, hearing the sadness in his voice.

No one said anything. The Question was right. All the way up until J'onn had left one month ago, the vote would always amass to four against three. The Martian was the one to dismiss her in the first place. And even now, with only six, they were still locked in a tie.

"That's why we need your vote," said Clark. "It's up to you to decide, now."

But Vic couldn't make this decision. He knew he wanted her back in the League; it provided protection. But he also knew the last thing Helena wanted was a shoo-in vote from him. _If I wanted to get back into the League, I'd find a way_, she would say to him._ I got myself kicked out, so I can get myself back in._ And he respected her enough to listen.

"I recuse myself due to conflict of interest," he said decidedly.

"You can't do that," said John, apparently baffled by the statement.

"Why not? You did."

John glared. "That was different."

"You people use that excuse a lot." Bruce clenched his jaw until it burned and Clark just fidgeted nervously. Vic continued. "Is that why I wasn't removed from the League when I attempted to kill Lex Luthor? Because it was _different? _Or was I too much of a liability?"

"This isn't about you," John huffed.

Shayera shot him a scolding glare before addressing Vic. "What we're trying to say is, you know what's best for her."

"I know she wouldn't appreciate being invited back while half of the founding members still consider her a murderer."

"Well, you know what they say," John sighed. "If the shoe fits…"

"Cut off the aglets," Vic retorted venomously.

No one knew how to respond. A prickly silence hung over them until a small voice came from between Flash and Green Lantern. "I change my vote."

Everyone stared at Diana. Even Bruce. "What! Why?" John spluttered.

The princess kept her eyes on the faceless man. She almost looked…sad. "You love her. You'd do anything for her. And she'd do anything for you. She proved that when she risked her own life to rescue you from Cadmus."

Diana was right. Vic nodded. "I'd probably be dead if it weren't for her."

"Then tell Helena that if she would like readmission, she has a majority vote in favor," the princess said kindly.

Vic smiled. "I will."

"Then we're done here," said Bruce abruptly, rising from his chair.

Flash immediately turned to Clark. "Hey Supes, wanna get some food?"

Before the Man of Steel could even reply, the speedster had disappeared. Clark followed him out and Shayera quickly booted a fuming John through the doors as well.

Just as Vic was about to leave too, the voice of the Bat stopped him. "You're staying, Sage."

He turned around. Diana was still in the room. Vic quickly thought of an excuse for a speedy exit. "Ermm, I'll be right back. Have to use the little boy's room."

"It can wait."

"Not unless you'd like to clean up the mess," he said cheerily.

Bruce delivered a ferocious Batglare, but the princess gave him an appreciative smile.

Vic nodded and slid out the doors like a ghost, leaving the two alone as he made his way back to his quarters. "It's for your own good, Bruce."

**x.x.x**

Hope you enjoyed. Review please!


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks for all of the reviews, everyone. They keep me motivated! Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 12**

_You love her. You'd do anything for her. You love her. You'd do anything for her. You love her. You'd do anything for her._

The more the words replayed in his head, the more miserable Diana's voice sounded. Bruce could see her somber expression in his mind as she said them to the faceless man. The same faceless man that loved a woman and would do anything for her. Something Bruce had consistently failed at.

He remembered something he'd said to John once, right before they'd traveled back in time to the Old West.

_I don't have time to pursue a relationship. My work is too important to allow any distractions._

Is that what Diana was to him? Just a distraction? Maybe that had been true long ago, when he hadn't fully understood what she meant to him. At the time, he'd known she meant _something_, just not everything.

_A respected colleague. A remarkable woman. A valued friend._

That was how he'd described her only a few years ago. But over the past few years, he'd realized it was far deeper than 'respected colleague' or 'valued friend.' The harder that realization hit him, the further he distanced himself from her.

"Bruce?"

His resolve shattered. How could he distance himself when she said his name like that? Warm and compassionate, beckoning him back. Beckoning him _home._

He was still staring at the doors from which the Question had just exited. If he turned around and looked into her eyes, he knew he wouldn't be able to maintain the distance anymore. He would shut down completely. And he couldn't let that happen yet. At this moment, Diana deserved more than a crippled, surrendered heart. She deserved it whole, and freely offered.

"Bruce?" she repeated.

"Yes?" he answered quickly, voice rough.

"I want to apologize for my actions," she said firmly. "They were uncalled for, and I'm sorry."

Bruce felt himself inwardly collapse. His spine quivered at the notion that _she_ was apologizing to _him_. Her voice was agonizingly gentle, as if the horrible things he'd done to her were nothing.

"No," he croaked. "You don't need to apologize."

He could feel her only feet behind him. "Of course I do. I hurt you."

"You could never hurt me." The words slid so easily from his lips, the tender tone of his voice unexpected, yet effortless. This must be what speaking from the heart felt like.

"Look at me, Bruce," she breathed.

God, he wanted to. He found himself exactly where he had been last night: wanting to make all of her anxieties melt away, but knowing he couldn't. "I…can't."

Diana gave a disappointed sigh. "I understand."

She sounded so hopeless. It wasn't right. Wonder Woman was a symbol of hope, while Diana was his one and only source of hope. But he'd finally managed to drain her of it. "Do you remember, in the Fortress, when the Black Mercy took hold of me?" he asked, the words just spilling from his heart.

"Yes. I'd never seen you…smile like that before."

"I saw my parents."

"I know," she whispered sadly.

Bruce closed his eyes. "I was eight. We were back in the alley. Joe Chill pointed a gun at us, demanding my mother's pearls. But my father…he deflected the gunshot. Nearly incapacitated the thug. Then I heard a voice, _your_ voice. I recognized it immediately despite the fact that I didn't…know you in my fantasy." He almost choked on his words. "But I heard you calling my name, and I knew what I had to do."

"You had to break your own heart."

The way she said it drove a stake through that very organ beating inside of him. "It wasn't anything I hadn't seen before," he reassured her, not really achieving a reassuring tone of voice.

"But it was," she said softly. "You saw it differently that time. You had a reason to _hope_."

"It was false hope," he said sternly. "And the less I saw of it, the better. Do you think Clark would have been able to separate me from the Black Mercy as quickly as you had?"

Her voice was small. "I don't know."

"I do. And I know he wouldn't have been able to. The longer I watched my father pound that lowlife, or my mother smile in relief, the more difficult it would have been for me to let it go. You saved me a great deal of pain. I doubt anyone else would have been able to do that."

Diana was silent for a few seconds "Why not?" she finally asked, barely audible.

Bruce hung his head. "You reminded me that reality was worth coming back to. _Only_ _you_." He could hear her steady breathing; he involuntarily matched his own to it.

"…You sacrificed the life you've always dreamed of…one where you and your parents live out a full and happy existence together, just the way it should have been…because of me?"

Bruce froze. An unbearable coldness crept through his veins, impeding the steady flow of blood, gripping his every nerve. She sounded _guilty._ _Guilty. _"It wasn't real, Diana," he pleaded immediately. He could hear his own desperation. "It wasn't real."

"It was your heart's desire." Her voice was serene as ever, only debilitating him further. "I…can't stand the thought of you destroying it on behalf of me."

A heavy silence hung over them. Even the slightest breath of wind could have knocked Bruce fully over. In all his playboy experience of charming selfish women with his fake, gaudy remarks and artificial interest, he was at a loss for words. The sudden sound of a voice blaring through Diana's com-link made him jump.

"Wonder Woman, this is Mr. Terrific."

"Go ahead," she answered firmly.

"Report to the javelin bay immediately. The USS Theodore Roosevelt is sustaining heavy damage from an engine malfunction and is sinking into the Atlantic."

"I'll be right there."

Diana closed the distance between them and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a miracle he didn't crumble to the ground. "I'm sorry, Bruce. I have to go."

The last thing he saw before she disappeared from sight was her long, raven hair flowing down her back. He once again found himself staring blankly at the closed doors.

His body moved free of his mind, letting itself collapse into one of the chairs at the table. His stomach was writhing, his bones aching. The neurons in his brain fired at impossible speeds, trying desperately to formulate a solution or even an explanation for what had just occurred.

But there was nothing. Only emptiness and perpetual darkness – a dismal night without a moon.

The sounds of the doors opening a few minutes later barely registered in his mind. A blue blur entered his vision and sat down across the table from him.

"You wouldn't believe the line," said Vic Sage, knowing full well any attempt to continue his cover about needing to use the bathroom was futile, but slightly humorous.

Bruce remained silent.

The Question propped his feet up on the chair next to him. "Aircraft carriers are so unreliable, don't you think?" He promptly received an even sharper glare.

"Why are you here?" Bruce asked, his voice uncharacteristically weak.

"Said I'd be right back, didn't I?" Vic answered casually. "Well, here I am."

Bruce had forgotten all about that. "Oh."

"Something you need to talk to me about?"

The Batman got the feeling Vic was deliberately humoring him. Not in the mood to explain that he really hadn't needed Vic to stay behind for any _particular_ reason, he quickly pulled something out of the air. "Do you think Huntress will accept her readmission or not?" he asked curtly, as if he'd planned on asking it all along.

Again, Bruce got the feeling that Vic knew he really couldn't have cared less at the moment if Huntress came back or not. Nevertheless, the faceless man went along with it. "That's a good question. I know that she feels trapped in Gotham. In the League, she had the opportunity to see the world. And although it was solely for the purpose of the mission, she loved seeing the Great Pyramids, the harbor of Rio de Janeiro, the Kremlin, even the Catacombs of Paris."

"Touching," Bruce grunted at the thought of someone enjoying themselves amidst an infinite number of decaying skulls.

"Yes. But I think her favorite place in the world is the Great Barrier Reef. Traveling there is one of the few things she remembers doing with her mother and father. She says it's the only place she's seen where the colors don't look forced… I want to take her there one day so she can see it again," he said dreamily, looking off into the distance.

Bruce was too busy pretending not to listen to make any sort of response.

"But I digress," Vic went on. "Perhaps with a bit of persuasion and an appeal to her thirst for a proper challenge, which the ruffians of Gotham have so far been unable to provide, she will consider it. Not that it really matters to you, does it?" he asked mockingly.

He didn't even bother to glare. "No. It doesn't."

"Hurm."

After several seconds of silence, Bruce spoke again. "Don't let me keep you from leaving."

"You're not," Vic replied matter-of-factly.

"Then what is?" he snarled impatiently.

"Well, for one, there's a rather large spider crawling across the ceiling of my room. It's unnerving, considering how difficult it'd be for an arachnid to get onboard the Watchtower."

"Probably hitched a ride on one of the Javelins," he reasoned.

"Or that's what it wants us to think."

Bruce honestly didn't know how to respond. Luckily he didn't have to, because Green Arrow's voice came through Vic's com-link.

"Hey Question, it's GA. Come to the bridge, there's something you should see."

"What is it?"

"Prison break in Gotham."

The faceless man looked down at his watch. "No one with half a brain breaks out of jail at eight o'clock. Why does this concern me?"

"Stop with the questions and get your ass down here!"

The sudden sense of urgency in the archer's voice was undeniable. "Okay, on my way," Vic sighed, getting up from his chair. When he got to the doors he looked back. Bruce hadn't moved. "You going to sit here and rot all night or what?"

Without speaking, Batman conceded to checking out the prison break as well, following the Question out of the doors and through the Watchtower. Gotham was his city after all.

When the two men stepped out of the elevator and onto the bridge deck, they were met by a group consisting of Green Lantern, Captain Atom and Supergirl, all of whom were whispering quietly amongst themselves towards the back of the bridge. They immediately grew silent and stepped aside so both Bruce and Vic could pass. Mr. Terrific was standing over the console typing furiously while Green Arrow and Black Canary spat orders at him. This seemed rather odd.

"What's going on?" Vic asked.

Dinah and Ollie ceased their shouting and stared at the faceless man, their faces completely drained of color. "Mandragora's escaped from prison," Dinah blurted.

"How? He was being held in a maximum security cell," Bruce asked, well aware of who Stephen Mandragora was.

"Guess it wasn't secure enough," said Ollie. "More than a dozen guys with some serious firepower were waiting for him on the outside-"

"Where is he now?" Vic interrupted.

"We don't know," Dinah answered weakly.

Suddenly a woman's voice rang out around them, a news reporter for Gotham on one of the giant monitors overhead. "A disturbing new development has reached us involving the escape of former mob boss Stephen Mandragora…" She stopped to listen to someone feeding her information through her ear piece. "Yes, it's been confirmed that he has taken a hostage…"

Before anyone saw it, Vic dashed to the front of the bridge, his fingers digging into the back of a chair, his featureless face staring up at the screen.

"…Our eyes in the sky say they have a shot of the scene taking place…apparently right in the middle of Gotham Square…Mike, we're cutting to you, tell us what you know…"

The scene immediately changed to a blurry camera angle from the sky. "From what I can see, Mandragora has indeed taken a hostage, and it looks like his cronies have set up some sort of protective perimeter around him…Tommy, can you get a closer shot?"

The camera zoomed in on a definitive group of people congregating in Gotham Square. As the shot got clearer, it was evident that at least a dozen of Mandragora's men were set up around him, ready to fire their weapons if anyone should get too close. In the middle of their circle was the giant mob boss himself, holding someone out in front of him. Someone wearing purple.

"She…she looks unconscious…" said the reporter. "Wait, don't we…oh god, isn't that the Huntress?"

Dinah gasped, clapping her hands over mouth.

Mr. Terrific was suddenly hoisted up by the collar of his jacket and lifted off the ground. "Get me down there now!" Vic yelled mercilessly, his voice echoing around them.

"In…in the middle of all that?" he spluttered.

"Yes you idiot!" The Question visibly shook the man at his mercy before dropping him back to the floor and sprinting off towards the transporters. Mr. Terrific, looking quite beside himself at this point, looked over at Batman.

"Do it," Bruce spat, as if the man were insane for hesitating. He glared to seal the message and Mr. Terrific immediately turned around and punched the coordinates into the computer.

"You're letting him go down there alone?" yelled Ollie. "He'll get himself killed!"

Bruce turned to follow Vic to the transporters. "No. We're all going."

**x.x.x**

Well Bruce, you better pay attention, because this is the part where Vic demonstrates the whole 'he loves her and would do anything for her' idea. Maybe you'll learn something, dear. We can only hope. Thanks for reading! Until next time…


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for the reviews, guys. This chapter is longer than the others, mostly because I got carried away with descriptions and things of that nature… Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Several references to the JLU episode "Double Date."

**Chapter 13**

Detective Harvey Bullock stuffed the last chunk of donut into his mouth as Renee Montoya stopped the car, jumping out, gun in hand.

"Look alive Harvey, this could get ugly," she ordered.

Harvey lumbered out of his seat, a firm grip on his gun. "Looks like it already is," he said, upon seeing the unconscious woman being held hostage. "Jesus, look at all the blood. What'd he do to her?"

"I'd say he probably attacked her."

"I thought Huntress could hold her own in a fight. Some say she's as good as the Batman."

"Have you seen the size of that guy? He makes you look like Danny DeVito!"

"Oh, thanks Montoya," he retorted.

"We're gonna need some serious backup here. Where's the Commish?"

"On his way. Had to deal with some lowlifes bustin' in a convenience store down in Crime Alley."

Several more police cars arrived at the scene, forming a semi circle around the group of armed gangsters. Each officer was stationed behind their car, guns at the ready.

"Alright," growled Harvey. "That freak probably wants something in return for- what the hell?"

A harsh blue light suddenly appeared behind them, catching the detective's eye. But the light had morphed into the form of a man, who was now running full speed toward them.

Harvey shifted his rather large body into the empty space between his own police car and another, blocking the running man's path. But the man didn't slow down. Instead, he ran faster.

Just as the man was about to completely bypass Harvey and slide over the hood of one of the police cars, the detective snatched his arm and pulled him back.

"What'd you think you're doin, you psycho? Can't you see the dozen guys with guns?"

"I'm not psycho, and of course I see them, you buffoon! I'm not blind! Now let go of me!"

But Harvey only stared at him, apparently baffled by his lack of a face. "Uhh…you can't go any further," he spluttered.

"But Harv, he's-"

Renee Montoya didn't get a chance to finish her sentence, because the faceless man had shoved the heel of his hand into Harvey's nose and was now running toward the perimeter of Mandragora's guards.

"Ow, you son of a-" Harvey snarled, wiping away the blood dripping from his nose. "Who the hell does that guy think he is!?"

"That's the Question! He's in the Justice League!"

"Oh. Well _sorry_ if I don't keep a full roster of flippin' super heroes in my head at all times! And what business has he got runnin' into a hostage situation all by himself anyway?"

Renee slapped a palm to her forehead. "Because that's his girlfriend!"

"Wait, that big guy's a girl!?"

"No, you dope! Huntress!"

Harvey Bullock once again turned his eyes to the woman being held hostage. "_That _guy is dating the _Huntress?"_

"Where have you been for the past year, living under a _rock? _Pay attention, Harv!"

"Why does everyone expect me to keep track of who's dating who? This is ridiculous!"

Another, larger flash of blue light appeared behind them, this time manufacturing not one, but six Justice Leaguers.

"Oh look, the Bat brought his friends along," Harvey growled as Batman approached.

Bruce didn't stop, but said, "Nice face. See you met the Question."

"Yeah, I did. I don't like him."

Batman, Green Arrow and Black Canary ran after the Question, while Green Lantern, Supergirl and Captain Atom flew above them.

Harvey huffed. "Might as well take the night off if the mighty Justice League is here to save the day!"

"Will you stop complaining!?" Montoya growled. "Oh, here comes the Commish."

Sure enough, Commissioner Gordon's car skidded to a stop and the gray-haired man jumped out, running toward them. "Got here as quick as I- whoa, Harvey, what happened to you?"

"The Question punched him in the face," Renee said nonchalantly.

"Geez, Montoya, ya gotta rub it in?"

Feet away, a masked Vic Sage had all but breached the barrier of armed guards. Four of them had the barrels of their guns thrust into his stomach and sides, yelling things like, "Stay back!" and "We'll shoot you!"

But Vic didn't care. The only thing he did care about was the woman at Mandragora's mercy. He held Helena out in front of him, one arm around her waist, his other hand holding a knife to her neck. Her eyes were closed, parts of her costume were shredded, and she was covered in blood. Even her silky, black hair was ruffled and knotted to a point that made Vic tremble in terror. The fact that his eyes were producing waterfalls behind his mask didn't even register in his mind.

"Let her go, Mandragora!" he rumbled fiercely, none of the fear evident in his voice.

Mandragora began to laugh. "Ah, Mr. Question, loyal boyfriend of the Huntress. Just the man we've been waiting for. And look what we have here…"

The other six heroes had caught up with him, albeit keeping a healthy distance away so as not to cause an uproar.

"Black Canary, how good it is to see you again. I see you've held onto that puny little leprechaun of a boyfriend. How disappointing."

Green Arrow tightened his grip around his bow, but held his tongue.

Vic was shaking uncontrollably. "If you so much as touch her again, you won't live to see tomorrow!"

But Mandragora just grinned, and ran his index finger of the hand holding the knife gently down Helena's side. "You mean, like this?"

Just as Vic was about to erupt into a fury of chaos, Supergirl dashed to his side, pulling him back. "She's alive, I can hear her heartbeat!"

Although a relief, this didn't quell any of Vic's fears. "Internal damage?"

Kara squinted. "Four fractured ribs, a broken collarbone, umm… a cracked skull…broken wrist, and…looks like there's some sort of arrow lodged in her leg."

"It's from her own crossbow," he said weakly. "I can see it sticking out of her left thigh."

"So do we have any sort of plan here?" Captain Atom interrupted. "Or did we just run into this on a blind, crazy whim?"

Batman turned around and grabbed the hovering Captain Atom by the neck. "You're treading on thin ice, Captain. No one's forgotten your part in the Cadmus Crisis, especially not Huntress. I suggest you watch your tongue, got it?"

"Yessir," muttered Captain Atom, as close to tears as anyone composed of pure nuclear energy could get. Batman released him. Green Lantern shot the Captain a look that said, _Well, he's got a point._

The Question, however, didn't notice this skirmish. "What do you want with Huntress?"

"Obviously, I want to use her as a bargaining chip," he said. "Unless of course, you'd like to watch me slaughter her, just as she watched me slaughter her parents." Mandragora pushed the knife harder into Helena's neck, so that a drop of blood escaped from under the blade.

"No!" Vic blurted in terror. "No. I'll give you anything you want if you let her go."

"He can't do that!" John hissed.

Bruce glared at him. "You'd do exactly the same thing for Shayera," he snarled, intentionally _not_ mentioning the name of the Green Lantern's current girlfriend.

Another sinister grin crossed Mandragora's face once the Question had made his offer. "How about you take off that silly mask, then we can discuss certain…negotiations."

Everyone's eyes shifted to the Question, awaiting his reaction. "Fine," he conceded immediately, wasting no time in snatching the can of aerosol from his pocket, despite the several nervous flinches of the guards at his sudden movement. The only sounds were those of the substance being sprayed and the crackling of the mask as it peeled away from his skin.

Both the mask and can of aerosol were dropped to the pavement. A man with red hair and blue eyes now stood where a once faceless man with black hair stood only seconds ago.

Once again, Mandragora began to laugh. "What is it that attracts such _bella donnas_ as she and Black Canary to nobodies like you and Green Arrow, I wonder?"

"It's called love, Mandragora," yelled Dinah. "You should try it sometime."

"Love!" he thundered. "What about the love between a father and his son? Because of you people, I only get to see my son once a week!"

"You should've thought about that before assaulting three federal officers!" Ollie shouted.

"My Edgar has been forced to live with people he doesn't know, people who do not understand him. He needs his father, surely you people can understand that."

Upon hearing these words, Vic wanted nothing more than to rip out Mandragora's throat. "You _killed_ Franco and Maria Bertinelli in cold blood for your own disgusting ends, forcing their six year old daughter into a world without a mother or a father, and you expect us to _understand_ that your son _needs_ a father like you?"

"No, I suppose I don't," Mandragora sighed. "But I would hope you, Mr. Question, would be quick to understand, considering your pretty little girlfriend is at my mercy."

Vic inhaled deeply, calming himself so as not to prompt Mandagora into doing anything fatal to Helena. "Alright," he said. "You want your son back."

"Yes, yes. I want _everything_ you people took from me. My son, my freedom, my life! And if I don't get it, I'd be happy to finish what I started many years ago, the elimination of the Bertinelli family."

"Fine, you can have it. Your son, your freedom, anything. Just let her go."

Mandragora blinked. "You sound like you are bluffing, Mr. Question."

"Why would I bother bluffing at a time like this?"

"I know you to be a manipulator of truths. This could very well be another of your tricks."

"You want to know the truth? Do you want to know who is truly responsible for the situation you and your son are in?"

"I already know!" Mandragora snapped. "It was the four of you pathetic heroes that thwarted my plans!"

"Then tell me, how is it that Green Arrow, Black Canary, Huntress and I all knew to apprehend you at the shipyard? Did we all know about the existence of your son?"

The albino sneered at him. "What are you babbling about, fool?"

"Would Huntress have been so intent upon killing you if she knew you had a son? Would Black Canary and Green Arrow have gone through the trouble of protecting you if they knew of your plans? Would Agent Faraday have allowed you to gain amnesty from prosecution if he knew that you were planning to ambush him in order to escape? I don't believe so."

For the first time, hesitation flashed across Mandragora's determined features. His eyes moved about frantically in their sockets.

"So, how is it that you can blame all of your troubles on a number of people, when you know there is only one responsible?" Vic continued. "_I_ was the one who knew of your real plans to escape to the Cayman Islands. _I_ was the one who knew that you were just stalling until your son arrived. And _I_ was the one who led everyone to the shipyard. If it weren't for me, you and Edgar would be living safely and comfortably in Barkers Cay on Grand Cayman."

"How…how do you know that location?" said Mandragora, genuinely flabbergasted.

"You did a poor job of covering your financial tracks, Mr. Mandragora. I'm just about as good at finding clues and following trails as you are at finding people and ending their lives."

A large vein on Mandragora's forehead looked as if it was about to burst. His face was now a bright shade of purple.

"It only makes sense that you should kill me, because I will never stop following your trail, Mandragora. I am solely responsible for all of your misfortunes, and will continue to be if you lay one more finger on that woman. And I can assure you, if you decide to kill _both_ Huntress and I, the Justice League will make sure that you live the rest of your life in a tiny, dismal cell, do you understand?"

The albino man did not respond, but only gazed wildly at the red-haired man in front of him.

"I'm giving you an opportunity to get rid of me now, for you will never be this close again," said Vic. "I ruined you and your son's lives. Don't you want your revenge?"

"He…he can't be serious," said Kara, worry etching her features. The Kryptonian looked to each one of her companions in turn, none of them giving any sort of response. Captain Atom still seemed to be frozen from his less-than-civil encounter with Batman, but the other four looked sadly down at the ground.

Bruce knew he was serious. John knew he was serious. Ollie knew he was serious.

Dinah thought back to their dinner the previous night, recalling something Vic had said. _We understand what it means to sacrifice things for the woman you love. _And she too understood. He was willing to sacrifice his life for the woman he loved. She felt a tear roll down her cheek.

But Kara refused to give in. "If I see a clean shot, I'm taking it," she hissed, her eyes glowing a brilliant shade of red. "Once I do, you take care of the guards, Lantern."

None of the others argued the plan, so Supergirl assumed they would follow her lead. It seemed bizarre that they would idly stand by as they lost one of their own. She'd never seen her four senior teammates looking so helpless and dejected. There was always a way out of any situation. At least, they'd always found one before.

After several seconds of silent debate, Mandragora took a few steps forward, dragging an unconscious Helena with him. Two of the armed guards stepped aside, allowing their master free access to his new, willing prey. Vic continued to stare into his assailant's beady eyes, despite the sickening image of his lover covered in her own blood.

Mandragora's upper lip began to twitch, while his eyes narrowed to raging slits. And in almost the same movement, he tossed Helena's body to the side and with the same arm, used it to hoist Vic up into the air, his huge, white fingers squeezing tightly around his throat. "I will have my revenge!" he growled venomously.

The complete absence of air and the feeling of his larynx being molded into his esophagus made Vic's vision blacken. Mandragora was now a fuzzy blur in front of him. However, the glint of the knife in the blur's hand remained perfectly clear as it crept ever closer to his body. When the tip of the blade was pressed up against his stomach, he felt surprisingly serene and unafraid, despite the fact that Helena would have to live on without him. He only regretted that he never got to say goodbye and that he loved her one final time.

The blade dug deeper into the skin of Vic's stomach. "Are you ready to die for her?" Mandragora asked as he tightened his grip around his captive's neck.

Vic's mind suddenly relayed all of the happy moments he'd had with Helena, a montage of laughter and love flashing over his eyes. "Yes," he squeaked.

"Very well, then," Mandragora hissed, drawing back the knife to strike.

Kara took her aim and squinted hard at the tiny opening of a shot she had at Mandragora's head. This was it. No one was going to die.

But a sudden tear of flesh and crack of bone immobilized her, sounding nothing close to that of a knife being thrust into a gut. She listened closely for a scream.

The loud, lumbering shriek came simultaneously with the sound of metal crashing to the ground and the thud of a body falling from a few feet in the air. Then a second, more precise tearing of flesh and cracking of bone reached her ears and the screaming stopped all together.

A wave of dizziness consumed Vic as oxygen escaped back into his windpipe. Was he dead already? How could he be dead if he felt a searing pain in his knees? He could feel a rough surface beneath him. It felt like…concrete. His eyes suddenly regained their sight, altogether with a perfect clarity of the situation.

Mandragora was staggering on his feet, blood dripping from his fingers. Soon enough the staggering turned to falling, and the man crashed to the ground. An arrow was sticking straight out of his spine, an identical arrow stuck through his wrist. Vic knew those arrows well. They were…

And then he saw her. Helena was sitting in a horrible, sprawled position, one arm curled unnaturally under her body, legs bent in the wrong direction, dark hair strewn over her face. In her other hand she held her crossbow, which was now shaking uncontrollably in accordance with her trembling body. Her arm dropped weakly back to the ground, and her head turned slightly. For a split second, her brown eyes met his blue. But her body surrendered to its feeble condition and collapsed.

A green aura went up around Vic as he scrambled to his feet. The sounds of frantic footsteps, the thuds of people hitting the ground, the clangs of Batarangs as they scraped against metal, none of this reached Vic's ears as he ran toward Helena in what felt like slow motion.

Right foot, left foot, right foot, Vic fell to his knees beside her body, not noticing the same searing pain he'd felt in them after being dropped to the ground. All he could process was the sound of her ragged breathing and the sight of her chest heaving up and down in short, irregular motions.

"Helena," he muttered when he saw that her eyes were once again closed, hiding the vivacious glint of their chocolate brown. His hands trembled as he pushed the hair from her face and removed her shredded mask. He gently maneuvered his arms under her body, cradling her against his chest while he sobbed into her hair.

John had managed to trap all of the guards inside a secure, green bubble once the rogue crossbow arrows had been deposited into their master, disabling him. Some of their guns had fallen to the ground, but some of them were confined in the bubble with the guards. A few green electroshock arrows were scattered over the ground, as well as a few Batarangs. Paramedics from an ambulance standing by were examining Mandragora, who lay face down on the ground. Commissioner Gordon, Renee Montoya and Harvey Bullock forced curious onlookers back away from the scene.

The only people that seemed to notice the man in a blue overcoat bent over a woman's form were the six heroes that had accompanied him.

Bruce put a hand on Vic's shoulder. When the man looked up, his eyes were red with tears, his clothes already drenched with Helena's blood.

"We need to get her to a hospital," said Ollie, standing on Vic's other side.

Batman nodded and touched his com-link. "Watchtower, this is Batman. Eight for emergency pickup."

**x.x.x**

Fyi: _Bella donna_ means beautiful woman in Italian. Oh, and Renee Montoya actually becomes the new Question in the comics, even though in my reality that will never happen… Anyway, I thought it'd be fun to have her know who the Question was and stuff. Well, enough rambling, review please (and thank you)!


	14. Chapter 14

Hey everyone, SORRY this one took so long to update. Naughty icebreaker. Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy.

*A special salute to **Merides**, by the way. _Qui Plantavit Curabit._*

**Chapter 14**

"So it was the Parasite?" Mr. Terrific asked as seven agitated and drenched super heroes came out of the landing bay.

Flash, however, had flash-dried himself by spinning around like a tornado, shaking all the water off. "Yeah," he said. "He had Bizarro and Livewire with him. And when we got down to the reactor room of the ship, Parasite was practically making love to the nuclear reactor while Bizarro tried to stop us and Livewire complained about being on the water."

"What did they want with the reactor?"

"To be honest, I think it was just a side trip so Parasite could refuel," said Superman, ruffling his wet hair.

"Why would he bring Livewire and Bizarro, though?"

"Apparently Parasite has the hots for Livewire," said Booster Gold. "And Bizarro was just excited to go on a _pretty sailboat_. Man, that guy is seriously warped."

"Well, he _is_ an ass-backward clone," spat Shayera, shaking her wings, causing water droplets to fly in every direction.

"Plus, they needed air support for their escape," said STRIPE, taking the helmet of his armor off. "And Bizarro was probably the only one they could convince to come along."

Stargirl huffed, wringing out her long blonde hair. "Nothing like a first class flight from Superman's mentally challenged doppelganger."

"But the carrier's back at port?"

"Yeah, it's fine," said Superman.

"Dude, it was so cool!" Flash yelped. "Diana got to the reactor room first, and she was all like, 'I'm not in the mood to deal with you right now,' and she totally slammed Parasite into the wall! Then Livewire was all like, 'Rudy, you moron, I told you this would happen!'"

"Then she electrocuted you," Booster snickered.

"Don't forget, sir, she electrocuted you as well!" chimed in Skeets, zooming around everyone's heads.

"Shut up, Skeets." Booster folded his arms in preparation for pouting.

"Anyways, Diana had Parasite _and _Bizarro knocked unconscious before Shayera dumped a barrel of water on Livewire. It was like, the _coolest_ ass-whooping I've ever seen! Di, remember when you – Diana, you okay?" Flash asked.

The Amazon was staring off in another direction of the Watchtower, her attention on something else entirely.

"Diana, what is it?" Clark asked, stepping up beside her.

"Do you smell that?" she asked, her voice detached.

Clark frowned, but inhaled. A sharp scent reached his nose. "Is that…iodine?"

Diana turned to Mr. Terrific, her eyes blazing. "Is someone in surgery?"

x.x.x

Green Arrow leaned against the wall, an arm around Black Canary. They were both silent as a red-haired man paced frantically back and forth in front of them. In his hand, he held a purple crossbow, a few arrows short of fully loaded. His knuckles had turned white from gripping it so tightly. Rhythmic shuffling sounds echoed through the hallway as his feet dragged heavily across the floor. A pool of blood had dried on his orange shirt. His shoulders were slumped forward, his head hanging. Strands of red hair fell chaotically over his forehead while random tufts stuck out in the back.

Dinah turned her eyes to Ollie, who looked back at her sadly. He pulled her closer against him and sighed.

Supergirl appeared at the end of the hall and approached them, holding something in her hands. Vic took no notice until she spoke.

"Umm, Question? I grabbed these for you," she said, holding out the can of aerosol and mask he had so readily discarded in Gotham Square.

"Oh. Thank you, Kara." Vic took them and set them down on top of his coat, which was carelessly piled on the floor.

As he took his things, Kara noticed just how much paler the mask-less Question had gotten since they returned to the Watchtower only minutes ago. The bruise over his cheek looked brighter against the sallow skin. His blue eyes were severely bloodshot and dark circles had formed underneath them. But he immediately returned to pacing, his fingers remaining tight around the crossbow. Kara gave Ollie and Dinah an apprehensive glance before the sound of footsteps at the end of the hall caught their attention.

Batman stalked toward them, his lips pressed into a hard line. "Her arrow pierced Mandragora's spinal cord. He'll live, but he's paralyzed from the waste down."

Vic gazed at him blankly for a moment, then glanced down at Helena's crossbow. "Was worried about spider on my ceiling," he muttered angrily, slamming his free fist against his head. "Stupid, stupid…"

Batman clapped a hand down on Vic's shoulder, jolting him out of his guilty trance. "There's no way you could have known."

Vic shrugged out of Bruce's grasp and silently walked over to the pane of glass, beyond which Helena was being operated on. He leaned forward until his forehead was pressed against the cool surface. Fog formed on the glass as he exhaled. He robotically wiped it away with his hand and exhaled again, repeating the process several times. "Should have let her kill him last time."

Bruce had a feeling this subject would come up eventually. And apparently, so did Dinah and Ollie.

"Hey kid, let's get some food," the Archer said to Kara. Ollie kept his arm around Dinah as he led her and Supergirl out of the hallway, leaving Bruce alone with Vic.

"Are you going to lecture me, Bruce?" Vic asked, still leaning against the glass. "Tell me I don't really mean that?"

"Doesn't matter if you mean it or not."

"Mmm, they're just empty words," Vic breathed, making the glass fog. He wiped it away. "Useless in any situation. Even when they're meant to make you feel better. They don't solve anything. But still, we say them… Why? Because we hope they might comfort us? Or because we have nothing else to say? Why do we waste the breath or the time? If they are pointless to say, why do we make a point of saying them? Perhaps they are a coping mechanism, put in place to reduce stress. Emotion-based coping, reduces stress without addressing the source of the stress. Seen as inferior to action-based coping, which deals directly with problem causing stress. Or perhaps they are a defense mechanism, put in place to deal with reality. Displacement, separating emotion from its real object, redirecting it toward someone or something less threatening in order to avoid dealing with what is truly frightening. Level three defense mechanism, considered neurotic. What is the source of the stress? What is truly frightening? How much blood did she lose? Will she…die? That is the question. That is the source, truly frightening. But stress is not reduced, reality not dealt with. Impossible…while question has no answer. Empty words are not an answer, yet all I keep telling myself is…I should have let her kill him last time."

Bruce marveled at Vic's ability to churn out psychological dilemmas by making an incredibly destructive, repetitive, and nonsensical monologue come full circle and prove its own point. "You finished?"

"Must've been following her. Must've tapped her phone, bugged her apartment. Knew she didn't have League's protection anymore. Knew she would be on a stakeout at docks tonight. Ambushed her. Had her ready by time they broke him out. Waited to feed her to big fish. Obvious, with hindsight."

"Vic, don't-"

"Knew I'm her boyfriend. _Mr. Question, loyal boyfriend of the Huntress. _My phones tapped too, apartment bugged. Had men keeping tabs on us while he was locked away. Need to know who his visitors were. Was he allowed phone calls? Easy to negotiate hit from prison cell. Too easy. How long was he planning this? From the beginning? I should have been more careful. Should have been more vigilant. Should have scrutinized further. Should have wired her belt with emergency transmitters. This could have been prevented with simple security measures. Should have…gotten her back into the League. She could have contacted Watchtower with com-link. We could have traced her to exact location. Not find out by news station. Was worried about spider on my ceiling. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Vic muttered, banging his fist against the glass.

"We have the best doctors in the world up here," Bruce offered. "She's in good hands."

"Not going to be happy when she wakes up on the Watchtower."

"She'll understand."

"Hates it up here."

"If you're with her, it won't matter."

"Despises the childish sexual tension. Can't understand why the men have sticks up their asses all the time, direct quote. I tell her it's because they're afraid. She says afraid of what, getting their hearts broken? Yes. Says that's a horrible excuse not to take the plunge. I agree, but women can be scary, what with their ability to throw intricate emotions around like a softball. Asks if she was scary. Still is, scariest woman I've ever met. Asks if I was afraid of getting my heart broken. Yes. Asks what motivated me to tell her my feelings. The possible positive outcome, however unlikely, outweighed the probable heartbreak. Congratulates herself on falling for the smart guy. Kisses me, tells me she loves me." Vic's hand slid down the glass, falling limply to his side. "I love you too, Helena."

At this point, Bruce was at a loss for words. He was relatively sure Vic was just talking to himself, so any kind of response would be futile.

"You shouldn't take time for granted, Bruce."

But he was thoroughly surprised when he heard his name. So much for being relatively sure.

"Time is finite. There could be years or only seconds left. Never know when it might suddenly be taken from you. You don't have _time_ to waste it."

"But _her_ time is infinite," Bruce snapped, challenging Vic to refute the fact that Diana will live forever.

"Not in this line of work. She's immortal, not invulnerable. She was dead in the future, wasn't she?"

Again, Bruce found himself thoroughly surprised. "How do you know about that?"

"Detected a tiny disturbance in the space time continuum. Originated from where you and John were sitting in the commissary that day."

"How the hell did you _detect_ that?"

"Borrowed prototype of an extra-dimensional anomaly detector from LexCorp. Didn't feel right taking one from you."

"How thoughtful. That still doesn't explain how you know the details of the mission."

"I have my ways. I know about Rex Stewart and Terry McGinnis, I know that everyone was dead in that timeline, including Diana, and that you survived as a bitter old man."

"What's your point?"

"Do you think that Bruce Wayne would have turned out differently if he was _with_ Diana before her death occurred?"

"No."

"No less spiteful or scornful?"

"No."

"Heartbreak would have felt the same either way."

"You don't know that."

"Then how do you know that Bruce wouldn't have turned out differently?"

"I know myself," Bruce asserted strongly.

"Even though, only this morning, you admitted to losing yourself?"

As much as he wanted to yell obscene things or throw Batarangs at Vic, he couldn't escape the fact that he was right. Bruce suddenly couldn't remember why he'd been trying so hard to make this a lose-lose situation for himself and Diana. Oh yes, win-win was too risky. _Horrible excuse not to take the plunge. _Damnit, even Helena was right.

"Tell me Bruce, did your future self give you any words of advice?"

"Make sure Tim doesn't go out on patrol by himself."

"Anything else?"

"Stay away from Derek Powers."

"Anything _else?"_

Bruce's jaw tightened automatically. "Don't let her slip through your fingers," he muttered.

"Ah." Vic said nothing else for several seconds, leaving Bruce to reflect on his own words. "I'm going to return to fogging up this glass now, because it's much simpler than trying to reason with you, which has left me more tired and confused than I was before. All I want is for Helena to be okay. I can't handle anything more complicated than that."

x.x.x

"Whoa." Wally stopped in his tracks, Diana, Clark and Shayera all but toppling over him. It was rare for the Flash to cease all form of movement, but the situation at hand was grave. Grave enough for him to remain still for some time.

The four founders stood at the entrance to the med bay, silently debating on whether or not to enter. The two current occupants didn't seem to notice them. In fact, they didn't seem to notice anything.

A red-haired man was leaning pitifully against a pane of glass, his forehead pressed up against it. His arms hung motionless at his sides, a crossbow clutched in one of his hands. The only sign of life was the rhythmic fogging and de-fogging of the glass as he exhaled and inhaled.

The other figure, a brooding Bat, looked as dark and gloomy as ever. He seemed to be rooted to the spot, with his body sheltered beneath his cape and his emotions hidden behind his cowl.

Although perfectly frozen and inert, both men radiated such intense waves of misery that anyone in the vicinity should have been able to feel them. Hence, the founders lingered in their traumatized states, experiencing firsthand the effects of such silently miserable people.

Diana was the first to move, stepping around Wally and leading the group into the hallway. Even their echoing footsteps weren't incentive enough for either man to turn and look. It wasn't until the four founders stopped in front of him that Bruce acknowledged their presence. He promptly stood up a little straighter, replacing his grim expression with a mildly angry one. Shayera gave him a calculating glance before averting her attention to matters more important.

The Princess stood beside a dejected, unmasked Question, studying the visible side of his face with the utmost sympathy and compassion. "Vic?" she said softly. "Are you alright?"

"Am I?" he asked, as if confused by the question. His voice was shaky, no louder than a whisper. "I can't really say."

She exchanged worried glances with Clark and Shayera. Wally, however, was busy staring at his feet.

Diana addressed Vic again. "Do you need anything? Some water, perhaps?"

He exhaled, causing the glass to fog again. "Water…no, I don't think so."

She bit her lip for a moment, mulling over her next words, before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He gave no sign that he noticed. "We just want you to know," she began, "that we are here for you, and for Helena. Don't hesitate to ask for anything, anything at all, should the need arise. We hold you in the highest esteem for your bravery and devotion, but most of all for your heart. It is filled with goodness and truth. And since Helena possesses it so fully, hers can hold no different. Which is why we hold her in equal esteem. It takes a great deal of courage to love and be loved in return." Diana let out the tiniest of sighs before continuing. "So, just remember that you have friends here, both you and Helena do. And if we can do anything to help, please let us know."

The Princess gave Vic's shoulder a squeeze before releasing it. She looked back at the other founders and was surprised to find a certain twinkle in Shayera's eyes, vaguely reminiscent of tears. Clark looked to be deep in thought, his brow pinched together. Wally no longer stared at his feet, but back at her. And Bruce had drooped back into a solemn, gloomy slouch.

"Friends…" Vic breathed, causing Diana to turn to him again. "What am I gonna tell my friends…"

Diana blinked. He was singing to himself.

"It just happened…you walked in my door…now I don't wanna be alone no more... Oops, I done it…told you how I feel…just hope this time that our love is real… Uh oh, fell in love again…what am I gonna tell my friends…"

Although Diana was left wondering whether or not Vic had heard a single thing she said, she had a strange feeling that he'd taken in every word. Her eyes traveled back to the other founders. Wally continued to stare blankly at her, Clark peered fixedly at the ground, and Shayera quickly flicked away a tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye.

"Bruce?"

Everyone jumped at her voice, except for Vic, who continued to sing. Diana ignored the wide-eyed stares of Wally, Clark and Shayera as she approached the Bat. Said nocturnal creature looked as if he might be crushed under the weight of his impending doom.

"I need to talk to you."

**x.x.x**

Well, there's that. I promise the next chap won't take as long. But what are promises these days? Hmm… (Wow, I've been reading too much Dickens.) Reviews are a writer's best friend!


	15. Chapter 15

Yay for quicker updates! Thanks for all the reviews everyone. Here's the next chapter.

**Chapter 15**

_I need to talk to you. _

It took some time for the six little words to sink into his brainwaves, and a bit more to decipher their meaning.

_She wants to…_ Oh, shit.

Bruce's throat constricted so tightly he wondered if he might pass out. The moment his eyes ventured from their locked position on the floor up to her face, hoping to silently impart to her that a private meeting wasn't necessary or convivial to his mental health, she'd turned on her heel and started down the hallway. His only escape route now was to lose consciousness from asphyxiation. But it wasn't like the Batman to faint.

Before he was aware of it, Bruce's feet had begun to move. It was peculiar though, considering he hadn't told them to. Why then, was he walking?

A strange tugging sensation deep in his chest compelled him to follow steadily after her, leaving behind the three other speechless founders and the miserable singing man. It tugged and it tugged, forward and forward. And finally, an explanation presented itself to him.

Bruce had never really contemplated the term _heartstrings_ before. Figuratively of course, they referred to one's deepest feelings of compassion and love. But he'd been ignorant of their literal meaning until now.

What compelled him to chase after the warhead that was aiming to crush her into the foundations of Gorilla City? What compelled him to dig rock by rock until he found her? What compelled him to follow her to that nightclub in Paris? Or to sing for her when she'd been turned into a pig? Or to desperately reach out for her as she disintegrated out of existence in that polluted future? Damn, it was even obvious in his future self. John had played witness.

_I saw the old man's face when Diana disappeared. I saw his pain._

That Bruce had been pushing ninety, and even at that age, a Diana that wasn't his had the ability to wrench his heart out of his body. That man's heartstrings were still intact, and their severance had affected him deeply, perhaps even more deeply than it had affected his thirty-six year old self at the time.

Now he was thirty-eight, and the tugging sensation became stronger as she led him through the halls.

What compelled him to go after her and apologize last night? What compelled him to follow her now? And what compelled him to quicken his pace so he could inch ever closer to her?

"Here."

Diana came to a halt in front of an obscure metal door and held it open for him. Bruce suddenly realized he was about to enter a storage closet with an Amazon princess.

"This is the only lead-lined room on this level of the Watchtower," she said.

Why she took him to the only lead-lined room on this level of the Watchtower, she didn't explain. Bruce had made sure to secure at least one random compartment on each level with lead lining as a failsafe against a Kryptonian or two. Perhaps her only reasoning was to shield their personal conference from prying eyes, which Bruce knew Clark to be guilty of in certain situations. But what was Diana planning to do that she didn't want Clark to see?

Bruce gulped and tried, in vain, to calm his pounding heart as he walked past her into the closet. Once the door was closed, Diana stood in front of him, arms folded over her chest.

For a moment, Bruce wondered if someone was growing a garden in this dank little closet. He could smell magnolias, lilacs, jasmine, even strawberries. But the only living organisms in the room were he and Diana. And he most definitely did not smell like a blooming garden.

His imagination ignited before he could stop it. Waking up on a balmy summer morning, the sun peeking through the curtains, throwing a single beam of light into his bedroom. A shiny mass of raven hair flowing over the pillow like a river. Dark taupe bed sheets wrapped around her sleeping form, bare skin gleaming like ivory. Pressing his lips to it, feels smoother than silk. Breathing in her scent, magnolias, lilacs, jasmine, even strawberries. The sounds of her breathing sooth his nerves. And the taste…

Bruce's throat burned with a bittersweet desire. He could never have a morning like that. He didn't deserve a morning like that. But there was nothing he craved more than a morning like that. His mouth began to water, his knees became weak. _Don't let her slip through your fingers._

"Bruce?"

The bedroom vanished, slipped away into nothingness like vapor. When he emerged back into reality, he was met with blue. Concerned, blinking, sky blue. And the realm of fantasy swarmed before his eyes once again.

But he bit back the ecstasy and swallowed hard, focusing his gaze on a shelf of cardboard boxes. "Yes?" he said firmly.

"Oh. You just looked like you were…" She paused. "Nevermind, it's not important."

Bruce could feel her eyes on him. His skin boiled.

"You weren't hurt, were you?" she asked.

"No."

She sighed. "Poor Vic, he's devastated. Do you think Helena will be okay?"

"None of her wounds were fatal. It's just a matter of how much blood she lost."

Diana bit her lip nervously. "Thank the gods Vic wasn't off on a mission somewhere. It could have been much worse for her without his aggressive negotiating."

Bruce nodded. "He's always been good at tactical manipulation."

"But how did he know Mandragora would fall for it?"

"Dangle revenge in front of someone long enough, they'll take it."

"But he could have just killed them both."

"Could have, but Mafiosos don't usually kill unnecessarily. They take out the one directly responsible, and the job's done. An eye for an eye."

"Did he not think about his son? Any chance of being reunited with him would have been lost if he murdered someone."

"When you're that close to vengeance, you can't think about much else."

"How awful," she breathed. "And Vic was absolutely ready to give up his life, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

Diana sighed. "It must have been difficult to watch that. I know how much you value his opinions."

"He..." Bruce hesitated, wondering how he could accurately describe Vic's ability to put the Bat in his place with the simplest remarks, even under intense anxiety. "…asks good questions."

"Ones you don't want to answer, right?"

His eyes flashed to hers, and he was once again met with gentle blue. He fell into them, fell into the sky. It felt like flying. "Yes."

"How often does he get an answer out of you?" An eyebrow crept up her forehead as she spoke, and the corner of her lips curled into a smirk. He'd only ever seen rubies sparkle that red.

"Most of the time."

A serious expression slowly replaced her fading smile. "Can I ask you something?"

His breath hitched, and he was unable to speak. He nodded.

"And will you answer honestly and to the best of your knowledge?"

He nodded again, blind anxiety clouding his thoughts.

"What are you afraid of?"

It wasn't a question he was expecting, nor one he knew how to answer. Did she mean it to be ambiguous? Was this some kind of test? Diana stared at him expectantly.

But for thirty years, Bruce had conditioned himself not to fear. Fear was weakness. Fear was his most powerful weapon. Batman was fear itself. "Nothing."

"Nothing," Diana repeated. "Are you afraid of me?"

Now Bruce was wholly confused. And confusion was something he felt almost as much as fear.

"Do I scare you, Bruce?" she asked forcefully, taking a step toward him.

His eyes were suddenly drawn to her ruby red lips. They were mere centimeters from his own, which were burning like fire. "No," he replied, his deep voice dripping with false conviction.

Why was she acting like this? It was…frightening.

"How's your neck?" she whispered, leaning ever closer.

Bruce could feel her cool breath on his chin. He fought back the urge to shiver. "Fine."

"May I see it?"

"It's fine. Really."

Her lips, previously smooth and relaxed, twitched into a scowl. He looked into her eyes again, only to find them driving mental daggers at his head. When she spoke, her voice was just as vicious. "I want to see it."

It was odd, hearing Diana talk like this. She never said things like 'I want,' at least not to him. Or in this tone of voice. Hell, she had _apologized_ for kissing him in the restaurant during the Thanagarian invasion. Now she was ordering him into submission?

Needless to say, Diana's strategy worked. Bruce brought his hands up to his cowl, but not before outfitting his eyes with their typical indifferent stare. He slid it back, revealing the tortured Bruce underneath as well as the battle wounds sliced into his neck.

Diana's scowl, however, didn't dissipate. Now that the barrier separating her from Bruce was partially down, she took the opportunity to fling more mental daggers at his unprotected face. "Thank you," she said graciously, but not without a healthy edge of scorn.

The princess stooped slightly, in order to get a better view of his neck. Bruce watched her eyes as they roved carefully over her handiwork from the night before. Strangely, they held no remorse. Hadn't she apologized for giving him these injuries only hours ago? Now she looked at them with an untamed hunger.

"Thirteen," she whispered, turning her head slightly to look up at him. "Thirteen stitches."

Whatever indifference he'd been attempting to keep up, Bruce had lost. He wouldn't be surprised if he looked similar to a cowering Flash right now. Diana's eyes weren't a peaceful sky blue anymore. They were thunderous. The looming storm about to unleash its fury. But the worst part was, she looked and sounded amused.

Her lips vanished. Her eyes vanished. Her ivory face vanished. All that remained was the sight of raven hair and the unnatural sensations of lips laying waste to his neck. Bruce instinctively jerked backwards, but only found himself backed up against a set of shelves.

His skin felt scorched wherever her lips met it. But it wasn't the pleasurable burning he'd always imagined it would be. His cheek in Gorilla City, his hands in Paris, his lips during the Invasion… Those instances were only tastes of the passion he shared with Diana. But this wasn't passion. This wasn't what he felt in his dreams. This was animal.

His breathing was ragged, but he didn't try to conceal it. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't even think. He was confused and scared. He felt like he was back in the alleyway, surrounded by death and darkness. The moon hadn't been shining on that night thirty years ago.

When the sensations on his neck suddenly ceased, Diana's face came back into view. Her eyes weren't the peaceful sky, but they weren't the storm either. He didn't know what they were. They were empty, but they pierced through him all the same.

She blinked once and disappeared. The closet door had been opened and closed before he realized it.

x.x.x

"Love again…gonna tell my friends…just happened…you walked in my…door…don't wanna be…alone…"

The singing had turned into quiet muttering, the quiet muttering into fragmented moaning. It was eerily painful listening to the Question at the height of his despair.

Few words were spoken between the three founders in the medical bay. Each was lost in their own worlds, exploring the depths of their hearts and minds. Clark was pensive and unmoving while Wally was unfocused and restless. Shayera stood against a wall, fidgeting with the bottom of her mace. Her mind floated back to happier days.

But when something caught her eye in the distance, she was quick to look and find a nauseas-looking Wonder Woman passing the entrance to the medical bay like a ghost. Shayera waited, wondering if Bruce was following her. But it soon became apparent that Diana had left Bruce in the trenches. As much as she wanted to congratulate the princess on whatever Bat-subjugation she had just accomplished, the Thanagarian had a feeling the subjugated Bat might be in need of a serious rescue party. And seeing as no one else was going to volunteer for the job, Shayera was left no choice.

Clark had followed Bruce and Diana with his x-ray vision until they mysteriously disappeared from his super-sight. After that, the Boy Scout decided he didn't feel comfortable eavesdropping on them anymore, and left the rest to Shayera's imagination.

She knew well enough that their mysterious disappearance from Clark's x-ray vision wasn't mysterious at all. The only thing he couldn't see through was lead. And after last year's careful study of Batman's extensive blueprints of this Watchtower, Shayera learned that each level was equipped with one lead-lined room.

Shayera started out of the med bay and headed for the storage closet lined with lead, relatively sure that Clark, Wally and Vic didn't notice her exit.

Once arriving at the unassuming metal door, she considered the possibility that Bruce had already ditched and gone back to Gotham. But judging by the look on Diana's face, any warm-blooded male should still be hiding in the closet. When she pulled it open, she didn't get the chance to marvel at her own superb detective skills. Within half a second, she had scurried into the closet and slammed the door closed.

Sitting with his back against a wall of shelves, staring vacantly into space, was an unmasked Batman.

"Jesus, Bruce! Anyone can just walk in here and see you like this!" she hissed, yanking his cowl back over his face.

He didn't seem to notice.

"Get your ass up and wipe that stupid look off your face. You're the goddamn Batman! Act like it or people will get suspicious."

"What are you doing here?" he asked blankly.

"What am I doing here, he asks," Shayera grumbled, shaking her head. "Making sure you don't jeopardize the League or yourself by giving away your secret identity. You do realize you were sitting in an unlocked closet without your cowl on, right?"

"Yes."

"So why weren't you more careful?"

"Didn't care to be."

"Oh god. You need to get out of here. You going to be able to fly the Batwing or will I have to do that for you too?"

**x.x.x**

And like I said, here's to Shayera cleaning up after everyone. Thanks for reading, everyone. And FYI, next chapter will be mostly Vic/Helena. Sorry BMWW people. I love to torture you.


	16. Chapter 16

Hi everyone… Sorry this update took so long. College has been kicking my butt and my free time. But this is the longest chapter yet! Thank you for all the reviews, by the way. They make me happy!

**Chapter 16**

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.

Vic Sage had always known the world wasn't fair. All of human history was rigged. How could anything be fair?

But this... This wasn't fair.

Of all the people in the world, of all the people Vic knew, of all the people in this stupid superhero organization, the one he loved the most was the one who had to suffer.

It wasn't fair. He should be the one in the operating room, not Helena. She didn't deserve this. It wasn't fair.

_You were right. I am the ugliest guy of all time._

_Not in my eyes._

A fresh river of tears poured freely from Vic's eyes. His fingers tightened around the crossbow. Her crossbow. The crossbow she'd held in her hand countless times before.

It almost felt like he was holding her hand, as he held her crossbow. But it wasn't the same. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to feel the soft skin against his fingertips. He wanted to feel her fingers tighten around his. He wanted to see her smile. He wanted to see the sparkle in her eyes. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to never let her go.

But all he had was the crossbow. And he continued to hold it tight.

His heart burned with agonizing anticipation. In an instant, it could shatter beyond repair, and he would be a broken man.

When the sound of doors sliding open reached him, the stabbing pain in his heart heightened. For the first time in the last few hours, he wrenched his face away from the glass.

A doctor. Vic's eyes focused into a blue stone stare, ruthless and unblinking.

"Mr. Sage?" said the man in green scrubs.

Vic's legs jolted to life. He reached the doctor in under a second. "How…how is she?" he asked, his voice an unsteady whisper. Vic brought the crossbow up to his chest and cradled it against him, as if it were Helena herself.

The doctor eyed the weapon nervously, but the uneasiness quickly faded. He'd never seen a more wretched-looking person in all his many years. The red-haired man in front of him looked as if his entire life hung on the doctor's next words.

"She's going to be fine. She lost a lot of blood, but not enough to require a transfusion. We expect her to make a full recovery."

Vic almost collapsed. Warm waves of relief pulsed through him. "Can I see her?"

"She's being moved into a private facility as we speak. The anesthesia will be wearing off soon. I imagine she'll be a bit disoriented when it does, perhaps even frightened, as are many trauma patients after surgery. It's best that she wakes up to a familiar face."

Without waiting for the doctor to continue, Vic dashed through the door to the operating room, moving as fast as his legs could carry him. He'd been through the back wings of the infirmary several times before, but they never seemed this extensive. It felt like he'd been running for days when he finally arrived in the hall housing the half dozen private rooms. One was open, its light spilling out onto the hallway floor.

Upon entering the doorway, Vic's heart shot up into his throat. There she was, lying asleep on the bed. A hospital gown had replaced her shredded Huntress costume. Her mocha-colored skin was a sickly white; her dark hair was tangled and strewn every which way. Fresh cuts and lacerations were visible on her face and arms, the thicker ones sewn up with stitches. One of her wrists was in a cast, while the same arm rested in a sling to support her broken collarbone. A few layers of gauze were wrapped around her head, several more around her thigh, no doubt where they had extracted the arrow. Her entire body was horribly bruised and battered.

And Helena was still the most beautiful woman Vic had ever laid eyes on.

Striding past the three nurses tending to things around the room, Vic fell into the chair that had conveniently been placed next to her bed, even more conveniently on the side of her uninjured arm.

The crossbow crashed to the floor. He gathered Helena's hand in both of his own, pressing it feverishly to his lips. Her skin was cold. He stroked it lovingly, relishing in the sensation of being able to touch her again.

"Helena," he muttered into the back of her hand, willing it to become warm and lively again.

And as if by some miracle, it did.

Her fingers began to twitch. Her head shifted against the pillow. Her breathing became more pronounced and she moaned softly.

Vic tightened his hold around her hand, his eyes locked on her face.

Her lips parted slightly. She took in a shaky breath. And very slowly, she opened her eyes.

"Helena?"

The chocolate brown irises focused on him. At first, they were blank. She looked dazed and confused. But as her memory slowly returned to her, she understood.

"Vic?" she whispered, voice weak. Her expression slowly melted into one of panic, and her hand suddenly squeezed tighter around his. Mounting tears clouded her eyes. Terror took hold of her. "Vic!"

In one fluid movement, Vic was out of his chair and leaning over her, pressing his lips to the side of her face, his free hand cradling the other side. "It's okay, it's okay," he whispered in her ear, wondering if he was saying these things to comfort himself as well. "Everything's okay now. You're safe. I can't believe I almost lost you."

Vic kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Any place that he could find on her, he kissed. Helena sobbed into his shoulder as her fingers clung tighter to his hand.

"I was…so scared," she muttered weakly, nuzzling closer against him.

The weight of Vic's guilt came crashing down on him, and he too began to sob. "I'm so sorry, Helena, I…I wasn't there to protect you…I should have been there…should have…I'm so sorry…"

"But you were there, Vic," she sniffed. "You saved me."

"No, no, no," he moaned against her cheek. "You saved me. You're so much stronger than me…so much stronger…always have been. I'm sorry…so sorry…"

The nurses standing around Vic and Helena couldn't tell which of the two was crying harder. One of the three women witnessing the touching scene began to tear up, while another placed a box of tissues on the counter beside the bed. The third smiled softly, remembering how affectionate these two heroes had been a year ago after Question's torturous stay at Cadmus. He had been the one recovering from injuries in a hospital bed. Huntress had limited his visiting time to five minutes, even for people as significant as Superman, and wouldn't leave Question's side for anything less than shooting Ultimen clones who got too close.

The third nurse motioned for the other two to follow her, and the three exited the room together, giving the two heroes their privacy.

Several minutes went by as both Vic and Helena let all of their deepest emotions rise up by way of crying. After every last possible tear was shed on behalf of the night's events, their lips met in a tender kiss.

"I love you, Vic, _so_ much," Helena whispered.

"I love you, Helena. More than anything."

"Don't go. Stay here…stay with me."

"I will. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Will you lay with me?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Helena."

"You won't. I promise. I just need you to hold me."

"All right." Vic slid out of his shoes and removed his bloodstained shirt, attempting to hide it from Helena's sight.

"That's my blood, isn't it?" she asked.

"No," he answered immediately.

She smiled. "You're a horrible liar, you know that?"

"Only when it comes to you," he chuckled, lowering himself onto the bed next to her. "I can lie quite successfully to anyone else."

"That's 'cause I know all your tricks."

"Yes, you do." He gently wrapped an arm around her hips. "How do you feel?"

She turned her head to look at him. "Like I'm loaded up on morphine."

"Are you in any pain?"

"A little, but I can't really tell where. Everything just feels heavy and numb. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Helena," he said, stroking her cheek. "As long as you're okay, I'm okay."

"Well, you look like hell, baby doll."

"And you look beautiful."

Helena grinned sheepishly. "Give me your hand," she breathed.

Vic did as she asked, placing his free hand into hers. Their fingers wove together. "I was only on stakeout for a few minutes before they…"

Alarm suddenly swept across Vic's features. "Helena, you don't have to-"

"No, I…I need to get this out."

"Okay. I'm listening."

She nodded and began again. "There were at least ten of them. They knew exactly where I was and they…they attacked me. I tried to fight them, think I knocked a few out but…there were too many. They pinned me to the ground, held a gun to my head. Said things like 'Bertinelli slime' and 'traitorous whore.' Then they gagged me and I passed out. Next thing I know I'm being dragged through some dark alley by the same guys. I pulled out my crossbow and tried to shoot them, but I only let off a single shot before they threw me to the ground. And then…he came. Mandragora."

Helena's voice grew shaky and uneven. Vic squeezed her hand tighter.

"He had a knife and he…ran at me with it. So I dodged it and tried to get away. But his guards kept pushing me back towards him. Mandragora…grabbed me, threw me against the side of a building. I got back up and just…tried to escape his blows. But he was too powerful. He…kicked me, hit me, cut me with the knife. I was so cold, so afraid…I knew I was going to die. I cried out for you, but you were so far away. I kept calling your name though, hoping you could hear me somehow."

Guilt welled up deep inside Vic. It burned. Painfully.

"That's when he started to laugh. And then he…had my single crossbow bolt in his hand. He was standing over me, just laughing. The last thing I remember before passing out again was the pain in my leg. He stabbed me with my own arrow, didn't he?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Both were fighting back tears again. "Yes," Vic answered sadly.

"Thought so. After that…I just remember hearing a lot of noise. Yelling and screaming. But your voice stood out."

"You heard my voice?" Vic asked.

She nodded. "It seemed louder to me than Mandragora's, even though he was right there. I couldn't move, couldn't feel my body. All I could do was listen to your voice. Then something changed. I hit the ground. I couldn't hear your voice anymore, so I knew something was wrong. I forced myself to get up, to find you with my own eyes. And when I did, when I saw him…holding the knife to you, I had to do something. I couldn't watch him kill you like I watched him kill my parents. I refused to be helpless. So I pulled out my crossbow and I…I shot him. Then I saw you. And you looked at me. And I was so happy…so happy…"

Helena descended into another spell of weeping. Vic nuzzled his nose against hers, letting himself break down as well. Their lips met and their tears ran together.

"Did I…kill him?" Helena whimpered several seconds later.

"No. Paralyzed from the waist down."

"So I'm not a killer?"

After all the horrible things Mandragora put her through, after all the pain he forced on her, she still didn't want to take a life. "You're not a killer."

"Good. I don't want to be. You taught me that."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Don't you remember? _Is this really what you want?"_ she said, repeating Vic's words. "You taught me a lot of things. You taught me how to love again."

"You already knew how to love, Helena."

"Mmm, maybe. Or maybe I just needed the right person to come along and remind me. That person was you."

Vic's heart paraded around in his ribcage. "I'm glad it was me," he admitted.

Helena smiled. "Me too."

They stared at each other for several long moments, expressing their feelings through silent gazes.

"Your cheek looks better," she whispered.

Vic grinned. "Too bad I'm still the ugliest guy of all time."

An unusual sadness filled her eyes. "I never should have said that to you. It was horrible and completely untrue. You're not ugly at all," she said, her voice pleading. "You're the handsomest guy of all time."

"That must be the morphine talking," Vic laughed.

"No. It's not. I'm serious."

He sighed. "Helena, I'm not exactly society's prime example of physical attractiveness."

"Screw society. _I_ think you're attractive. Isn't that enough?"

Her desperate tone stabbed at his chest. "Of course it is," he whispered. "You're the only one that matters."

"I better be," she warned, her lips curling into a smile.

"So you really think I'm attractive?"

Helena rolled her eyes. "Isn't that what I just said?"

"Well, yes. But…do you mind saying it again?"

Her smile widened. "Vic Sage, not only do I think you're attractive and handsome, I think you're sexy, charming, romantic and downright intoxicating."

"Intoxicating…" he repeated. "How am I intoxicating?"

"Your presence. Can't get enough of it. I want all of you, all the time. I'm not just drawn to your eccentric charm, but to your everything."

Helena let her eyes slide shut and watched those everythings of Vic as they played in her mind.

"To all your quirks. To the way you upset the status quo. The way you challenge those in power. The way you question absolutely everything in order to find the truth. The way your face lights up when you discover something, the way your eyes smolder when you're angry. The way you look at me like there's no one else in the world, and to those stupid, irresistible puppy dog eyes. I'm drawn to your hands, how they touch me, feel me, like they're another set of eyes. The way you hold me when I'm sad, or the way you let me hold you when you're sad. The way you kiss me when you're happy, excited, hopeful, frustrated, confused, scared. And the way you make love to me like there's no tomorrow."

She bit her lip, imagining those times.

"I'm drawn to the way you think, the way you worry about things no normal person would ever think to worry about. The way you concentrate so intensely on whatever you're doing. The way your mind just weaves these complicated thoughts and ideas together until they actually make perfect sense. The way you know what I'm thinking or what I want without having to ask. The way you're always, always there for me. I'm drawn to your thoughtfulness, your wit, your dry sense of humor, your cynicism, your stubbornness, your spontaneity, your passion. The adorable way you have to be reassured that I need you as much as you need me. And I'm drawn to your voice…"

She sighed deeply, letting the sensation of his voice wash over her.

"Mmm, your voice," she breathed. "That was the first thing that drew me to you. I heard your voice outside my door… 'Oh Cadmus, Cadmus, wherefore art thou Cadmus?'" she repeated, perfectly imitating his tone. "Something came alive inside of me. Like something I'd been missing finally fell into place. Your voice was special to me. It was the first piece of you I knew. It gave you a face when you didn't have one. And now that your face isn't a mystery anymore, your voice is even more special. Because it still affects me as much as it did the first time I heard it. But I don't just hear it. I _feel _it, in the deepest parts of myself. It makes my entire body tingle and burn. When you say my name, when you whisper things to me, when you tell me you love me, I can feel your voice running through me. Even when you talk to yourself or sing those ridiculous pop songs, I feel it. I feel you."

Helena opened her eyes to find Vic staring at her, into her very soul. His eyes were wide; deep, cerulean pools of shimmering wonder.

"So there. Feeling reassured, you big baby?" she asked adoringly.

His hand that had been resting on her hip slowly floated up to her face. He brushed his fingertips gently over her cheek, her chin, and finally her lips. More wonderment filled his eyes when he traced their soft outline, as if he were discovering that they were truly there, and that the words that had come out of them had truly been said.

Once the initial awe of his discovery passed, his face lit up with a newfound fire, a luminous smile showing every degree of his happiness. "Yes," he murmured. "Yes, I am."

He returned his arm to its place around her hips and drew himself closer to her. Her numb body buzzed with warmth. "Thank you for saving my life tonight," she said.

"You saved mine first, when you got me out of Cadmus. I finally got around to returning the favor. Only after I saved you tonight, you saved me again. Hmm," he mused. "It seems I still owe you."

"Guess you're the damsel in distress more than I am," she chuckled. "But if I'm ever kidnapped by the Illuminati or something, you better come rescue me."

"I wouldn't rest until they were all de-illuminated," he promised.

Helena grinned. "My hero."

Vic's cheeks flushed red and he looked down sheepishly. Now that his eyes were hidden from view, her attention shifted, and Helena suddenly became aware of her surroundings.

"Hey Vic? Where are we?"

He looked up again. The familiar feeling of guilt crept through his veins. "We're on the Watchtower."

"The Watchtower…as in, Justice League headquarters, orbiting spaceship, Watchtower?"

"Yes. I know you dislike it here, but it was the quickest way to get you to a doctor and I didn't want to risk going to a hospital where I didn't trust the surgeons and I…I…"

"Vic?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to feel guilty for bringing me up here," she said. "I'm actually glad that you did."

He blinked in disbelief. "You are?"

"Yeah. It's the one place where we don't have to hide. And even though I'm not in the League, we're still frequent Watchtower infirmary visitors," she laughed.

"Oh, speaking of the League…" he began. "Well, we don't have to talk about it now. It's not important."

"No, tell me," she said.

Vic bit his lip, unsure of how she would react. "The Founders voted you back in earlier today."

"They…they did?" she asked, perplexed.

He nodded. "Dinah put in your readmission request."

"I told her not to," Helena grumbled.

"Well, she did. Now I feel like an ass for not doing it myself."

"Vic, I told you I didn't want you trying to get me back into the League. And you didn't. Listening to me doesn't make you an ass."

"I suppose. But there's something else you should know."

"What is it?"

He sighed. "Their vote originally ended in a tie. So they called me into the conference room and asked me to break it."

"Are you kidding me? What did you do?"

"Well, I obviously wasn't going to vote against you. But voting _for_ you meant reestablishing your position in the League, which I was told not to do by one Helena Bertinelli. So I refused to vote."

"You refused the Founders? Just for me?"

"Helena, I'd do anything for you. I can't live without you."

A tiny whimper gave away her deep appreciation and her eyes sparkled with loving tears.

He kissed her, slowly and passionately. It was difficult resisting the urge to sweep her into his arms and hold her tightly. He was forced to remind himself that that would only cause her pain. So he settled for her lips, using every ounce of his being to make her entire body feel the tingle of his love for her. Just in a single kiss.

Helena was forced to catch her breath when they broke apart. "I better get a lot more of those over the next few weeks," she panted.

Vic laughed. "As many as you want, considering you won't be able to have sexual climax by yours truly."

A fiery scowl blazed across her features. "When I'm healed, you are _so_ mine."

"That sounds like a threat," he teased.

"Oh, it is," she assured him darkly. "And I guarantee you won't be able to walk straight the next day."

His eyes grew wide. "I wonder if Zatanna or Dr. Fate could accelerate your recovery with magic somehow…"

Helena snorted. "Well, while you work on that, I'm going to sleep. You should get some too, baby doll. You look like you've been up for a week straight researching the irregularities in crop circles."

"They have irregularities?" he blurted. "That means the Girl Scouts aren't working alone. Did they recruit help from a second party? Maybe it was just a sloppy copycat. Unless that's what they want us to think…"

"Vic. I was kidding."

"Oh. I knew that."

"Sure you did. So, how about a goodnight kiss before I-"

Helena's words were cut off when his mouth suddenly claimed hers, utilizing its every known sensual technique to make her tingle again.

This time, she came away licking her lips. "Mmm, yeah," she moaned happily, her eyes sliding closed. "Better get a _lot_ more of those. Going to sleep now. Love you, Vic."

"I love you too, Helena."

"You gonna be here when I wake up?"

"Well, I was thinking I'd let Batman step in for me. He's much more of the cuddly type."

The corners of her lips twitched up into a smirk. "Sick bastard."

**x.x.x**

Yay! Oh, and before you review (or don't review, your choice), I strongly urge you to go check out a particular fanart work at deviantART that is actually based on this story! The artistic genius is Shinju90, and her beautiful illustration depicts a scene from ch 14. I absolutely love it, and you will too. So go to deviantART and just search "jlu the night has no companion."

And I would reveal the artist's FF.N penname, but I don't know the proper etiquette for anonymity when it comes to these things. If she'd like to be recognized, I'd be glad to open the next update with the unmasking!


	17. Chapter 17

Heh… Well, if it isn't good old icebreaker finally publishing another effing chapter. SORRY for the ridiculously long hiatus. There are many things to blame. College, Bleach (yes, the anime), laziness… You get the picture. This chapter is pretty long though.

*The lovely illustration I mentioned at the end of the last update was done by…**KawaiiIruka**! Round of applause for her awesomeness!

**I recommend reading chapter 15 again before reading this to refresh your minds on wtf is going on in this story. Enjoy and I apologize for the horrible lateness of this chapter.

**Chapter 17**

"Goddesses of Olympus…"

The Princess crumbled under the might of her troubles. She sank to her knees and doubled over until her face and arms were pressed against the cold, hard floor.

"I thank you, _humbly_ thank you, for all the gifts you have bestowed upon me, and I hope that I have used them admirably so as to honor your great names. However, on this night, I wish not only to express my gratitude or ask for your blessing, but to beg for your guidance in a matter most dear to my heart and soul. A matter of which I have spoke often to you, though never in this depth or magnitude. I know that I've disgraced the ancient laws of my home and betrayed the sacred teachings of my mother by not only immersing myself in Man's World, but allowing it to affect me so deeply. I am in love with a man, a mortal of this world. And I know deep within his shadowy heart exists his love for me. I beg of you, _please, _listen to my prayers."

x.x.x

"Just want to sit here for a minute."

"In this tiny room?" Shayera asked incredulously. "You can go brood in the Cave. It's much more…spacious."

Bruce inhaled slowly. Magnolias, lilacs, jasmine, strawberries… The Cave didn't smell like this. "I can brood in here just as well."

She fidgeted slightly, surveying the walls around her. "I hate cramped spaces. But," she sighed, sitting down against the wall opposite him, "as long as you're going to brood in here, I'm going to babysit you."

He sighed. "You really don't have to do."

"Well, sorry to burst your bubble Batsy, but I can't trust you to be alone while you're like this. I don't know what kind of stupid things you're capable of when you're emotionally vulnerable."

Emotionally vulnerable. Bruce inwardly cringed. He didn't remember the last time he'd actually _let_ himself get emotionally vulnerable to the point of someone else noticing. Well, Alfred always had the funny ability to pick up on those things.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked after a few seconds of silence.

"About what?"

"Whatever just happened in here?"

Bruce hung his head. "I don't know what just happened in here."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Happened too fast."

"And that's why you're sitting here looking like you just witnessed Flash give a lecture on quantum field theory?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "Look. I don't know what's been going on with you and Diana lately, but I do know this. You're going to lose, Bruce. There's really no way of escaping it. And the longer you try to convince yourself otherwise, the more confused you're going to get. If you want to go around looking like a complete basket case, fine. But you're going to lose your fear factor. And what's Batman without his single greatest weapon? Just some crazy guy in tights and a cape."

Several moments of silence passed without any kind of response from Bruce.

"Could you at least nod or pretend that you heard a word I just said? It'd really make me feel better," Shayera said.

He lifted his head. "I heard you."

"Good. Now—"

A voice in her commlink cut her off mid-sentence. "Shayera, this is Superman."

"Yeah, what's up?" she asked.

"We just heard from the doctors. They say Huntress is going to be fine."

"Oh good," she sighed in relief. "Is Question with her?"

"Yeah, he just kind of bolted back there as soon as the surgeon came out."

"Of course he did. And he probably won't leave her room for anything less apocalyptic than World War III. Has anyone else been in to see her?"

"Not yet. We're going to give them their space for a little bit."

"Smart move."

"Hey, have you seen Batman or Diana recently?"

Shayera glanced toward Bruce. "How recently are you talking?" she asked innocently.

"Well, since they…you know, went to the…"

"Oh. Nope, haven't seen them."

"Hmm. I hope everything is alright."

"I'm sure it is," she dismissed. "But I'll swing by the med bay once I've taken care of a few things. Shayera out."

She closed the connection before Clark was able to pry any further into the situation.

"That was Clark," she said. "Huntress is going to be okay."

Bruce nodded.

"I take it you don't want to pay her a visit?"

"Visiting people isn't really my thing."

"Yeah. It's not like you're Vic's friend or anything."

"He's seen enough of me today."

"How much qualifies as enough?" she asked. "Five minutes? Ten? Or is his pain tolerance higher than everyone else's?"

"I made him come to the Manor this morning," Bruce said nonchalantly.

Shayera raised an eyebrow. "You…what? Why?"

"To show him the recording of what happened in the jet."

Shayera wrinkled her nose. "You mean you willingly revealed that to another human being?"

"Felt the need to have an objective analysis of the situation."

"Objective meaning someone who's in a healthy relationship?"

"Objective meaning…his personal opinion on the matter."

"Damn. Guess I wasn't kidding when I said we should get relationship advice from him."

"But…when I called him, she answered his phone."

"So?"

"So they were in bed together."

"And that's significant because…"

"Well, I was abrupt and rude to both of them."

The Thanagarian's green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You resent them, don't you? Because they have what you want?"

Bruce's hands clenched into fists. "It's just so goddamned effortless for them."

"Is that why you didn't want her back in the League?"

"What?"

"So you wouldn't have to see them together?"

"I…no, of course not!"

"It was just your uncompromising moral code, then? She's an attempted murderer and therefore has no place here?"

"Yes."

"Even though it was the man who killed her family that she tried getting rid of?"

"Yes."

"Even though, when faced with the opportunity again, she didn't take it?"

"Yes."

"Even though it's been over a year since those things happened?"

"Yes."

"And even though you know _damn_ well that if she wasn't a good person at heart, Vic wouldn't be with her?"

Bruce looked over at her, silent.

"Diana had a point, you know," Shayera continued, "when she was giving Vic that spiel about his heart being filled with goodness and truth. Helena's can't be much different."

He looked away again, hanging his head. "Diana is a wise woman."

"Yeah, she is. And a wise woman wouldn't still be in love with a man who's pushed her away for five years if she didn't know that he was absolutely worth it."

Something Vic had said earlier resurfaced in Bruce's mind. _The possible positive outcome, however unlikely, outweighed the probable heartbreak._

"What are you saying?" Bruce questioned.

"You've given her ample amounts of time to consider the consequences of being with you, not to mention any bullshit excuses you've given her for not being in a relationship. She's not an idiot. If she had any doubts that this wasn't a massive waste of time, she would have walked away by now. Seems to me she's going to stick this thing out until you're old and wrinkled if she has to," Shayera sighed. "But you want to know what the problem with that is?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"If you make her wait until you're old and wrinkled, the sex just won't be as satisfying for her. So I suggest you hop on the bandwagon while you're still relatively young and nimble."

Bruce stared, eyes wide.

Shayera just grinned. "Don't you think so?"

"Err…"

"Ah, never mind. Of course you do."

Bruce averted his eyes and took to staring idly at his hands. Shayera couldn't help but applaud herself on making such an irrefutable argument.

"Oh, and while we're still on the topic, I'm curious… What were some of the bullshit excuses you gave her? Wonder if they were as bad as the ones I gave John that one night when…"

"When his heart stopped from the detonation of Joker's bomb and you took him back up to the Watchtower and…_stayed_ with him?" Bruce smugly finished for her.

"Yeah," she sneered. "That night."

"Thought so."

Shayera sighed. "I told him it couldn't go any further because…because we work together."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"I told Diana dating within the team always leads to disaster."

Shayera let out a high-pitched cackle. "Bet I know where you got your source material on that one."

"We'll blame that one on you."

"Great. It's an honor, really. Let's see, what else did I say… Oh yeah. That we were too different. Bet you used something similar?"

Bruce gave a nod. "She's a princess from a society of immortal warriors while I'm a rich kid with issues. _Lots_ of issues."

"You do have issues. But I think my worst excuse was that we couldn't be worrying about each other while fighting the bad guys."

"Wasn't it a little late for that?"

She glared. "Yes, thank you for proving my point. Your turn, smartass. Any others?"

"No."

"Liar."

He sighed. "Fine. If my enemy's knew I had someone special, they wouldn't rest until they'd gotten to me through her."

"Please tell me you didn't really say that out loud to her. Reducing her to the role of a mighty hero's damsel in distress? Not smart."

"That was about the time she crushed a gargoyle's head with her bare hand."

"Yikes. She's scary when she's ticked."

Bruce was silent for a moment. "What did you just say?"

"Uhh, she's scary when she's ticked?"

"Scary…"

Shayera raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what was going on in Bruce's head, if anything. "Something wrong?"

"She asked me if…she scares me."

"Just now?"

He nodded.

"Well, what did you say?"

"I said no…"

"You don't sound entirely convinced."

"Maybe I'm not…I don't…"

_What are you afraid of? Do I scare you, Bruce?_

"Why would she ask…"

Bruce went over the questions in his mind, wondering if they held some sort of hidden significance he'd missed before. Now that his thoughts were open to suggestions, memories of other things said throughout the violently day flooded in.

Diana's words stung in his mind. _I hurt you. _How had he replied? Oh yes… _You could never hurt me. _Was that the right thing to say? And something else she'd said… _It was your heart's desire. I can't stand the thought of you destroying it on behalf of me._

Bruce sifted through all of these thoughts, trying to make sense of them. Why would Diana insist that she hurt him by pulling him out of the Black Mercy's dream?

"Bruce?"

His thoughts traveled back to the previous night, when he'd approached Diana in her jet. Her words… _You've done everything in your power to hurt me, and now you can do nothing more._

_You could never hurt me…_

"Hurt…" Bruce mumbled aloud to himself.

"What?"

He shook his head, as if trying to rid it of the mounting confusion.

Shayera's words… _Reducing her to the role of a mighty hero's damsel in distress? Not smart._

This morning, Bruce had told Vic… _My apathy was for her protection…_

Vic's words… _You don't think she'll be able to cope with your death if you let her love you? _Bruce said… _If I can prevent her from having to go through the pain of my death, then I will…_

"Damsel in distress…" he continued to mumble.

_Do I scare you, Bruce? No…_

The image of Diana in the jet, his blood cascading down her arms. She looked like a scared, helpless child. He wanted to kiss her, make her fears go away…

"Uhh, Bruce?"

_Reducing her to a mighty hero's damsel in distress…_

_Do I scare you, Bruce? No…_

Why would Diana ask that? And why had she acted so…_frightening_ afterwards?

Vic's words earlier… _Women can be scary, what with their ability to throw intricate emotions around like a softball. Asks if she was scary. Still is, scariest woman I've ever met._

_You resent them, don't you? Because they have what you want?_

"Should be effortless…"

Shayera gaped at him, now having absolutely no idea what was going on in his head. "Are you having some sort of miraculous revelation?" she asked. "Or are you just losing your mind?"

Bruce turned toward her. "I need to get out of here," he said abruptly.

"Okay…"

"Find out where Diana is."

"Are you going to go talk to her?"

"No. Just do it."

Shayera was beyond confused. "Whatever you say, boss-man." She touched the commlink in her ear. "Mr. Terrific, I need a 10-20 on Wonder Woman."

Mr. Terrific responded without questioning the founding member's intentions. "Private quarters."

"Thanks." Shayera addressed Bruce. "She's in her room."

"Good." The Bat hopped to his feet, promptly throwing open the door and entering into the hallway.

Shayera followed after him, grateful no one else was in the hallway to see such a strange phenomenon as Batman coming out of the tiny room, followed by a Thanagarian. "What's going on? Where are you going?"

"Gotham."

"Gotham? What-"

Bruce suddenly came to a halt. "Nothing I said ever leaves that room," he growled. "Got it?"

It was a strange relief to hear the good old cranky Bat again – the original pain in the ass that leaves its victims frustrated and royally pissed off. "Got it."

After a terse nod, he retreated down the hall and disappeared toward the hangar.

Shayera gave a snide laugh. "Hey Shayera, thanks for talking to me and making sure I hadn't completely gone insane, it really helped me see things clearly. Oh, no problem at all, Bruce! Feel free to take advantage of my friendly concern any time!"

She turned on her heel and exited through the other end of the hallway, heading towards the med bay.

"Ungrateful rodent."

x.x.x

"Should we get her flowers or something? Which flowers does she like? Is she even a flowers kind of girl?" Kara questioned, walking beside Dinah and Ollie.

"Uhh, I don't know, I don't know, and I don't know," Ollie responded confidently.

Dinah rolled her eyes. "Every girl likes flowers. We just need to ask Vic which ones aren't involved in some bizarre conspiracy."

"Maybe we should get him flowers," joked Ollie. "He's more of a mess than anyone right now."

"Of course he's a mess. How would you feel if _I_ was the one in a hospital bed?"

Ollie's face grew somber. "I'd want lots of pretty flowers."

"Well, now that it's taken us an hour and a half to decide that flowers tend to make people feel better, we just have to ask Captain Conspiracy which ones get his stamp of approval and-"

Kara came to an abrupt halt when she reached the open doorway. Ollie and Dinah froze beside her, all three taking a moment to assess the scene before them.

"Well, isn't that sweet," said Ollie in a half-sarcastic, half-sincere tone of voice.

"Ohmygod!" Kara squealed under her breath. In less than a second, she'd ran back down the hallway and out to where her cousin and Flash were standing. Poking her head out of the door, she said, "Clark, Flash, you have to come see this!"

Clark's brow furrowed. "I thought we were going to wait until you were done so we didn't crowd the room."

"I really don't think they're going to mind!" she said breathlessly, motioning for them to follow.

Wally shrugged and disappeared through the door after her. Clark followed hesitantly, pondering the reasons why Ma and Pa's polite country manners hadn't rubbed off on Kara.

When the three arrived outside the doorway, the two newcomers surveyed the scene.

The room before them was just like any ordinary hospital room: lots of fancy machinery, the randomly placed comfy chairs, and the remote-adjustable bed. Only there were two people occupying the bed. And both were sound asleep.

Despite the countless cuts and bruises all over the visible parts of her body, Helena looked serenely content as she slumbered. Perhaps this was because Vic was curled up shirtless beside her, his arms creating a gentle fortress around her broken body.

"Aren't they cute?" Kara whispered.

"Ehh, maybe in a sad and vulnerable sort of way," Clark suggested, scratching his chin.

"Dude, Huntress is hot."

Four sets of eyes turned to the speedster.

"What?" he asked defensively. "I've never seen her without her mask before! Can't blame a guy for noticing these things."

"Those are the only things you notice, twinkle toes," came a new voice from down the hall.

Flash glared at the approaching Thanagarian. "That is so not true!"

"Keep telling yourself that," Shayera chuckled as she passed him. "So how are the lovebirds holding up–"

The winged-woman stopped in the doorway. A wave of bitter jealousy roared up and down her body as her sights came to rest on the two people in the bed. Bruce's resentment didn't seem all that ridiculous anymore. Shayera immediately became disgusted with herself and bit back her envy. Like Bruce, she only had herself to blame.

Dinah came and stood next to Shayera, a downcast expression softening her sharp features. "Heartbreaking, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I can't imagine what it must have been like to witness it all," she murmured, looking sadly over at the blonde.

Dinah sighed. "We were very close to losing them both. And there was so little any of us could do. I don't think I've ever felt so powerless."

Shayera knew that feeling all too well. "It's all over the news. Won't be long until the whole League finds out."

"Morale always seems to drop when it's one of our own. This time it was two."

"Then we'll just have to work extra hard to boost it again. It's all we can do."

"What should we do about the rest of the League?" Kara asked, coming to stand on Shayera's other side. "They're going to want to see for themselves the damage Huntress took, if only out of curiosity. And I doubt Question would be happy about a bunch of people constantly spying on them."

"Hey, isn't that what we're doing?" Flash butted in.

"Maybe if the three of you left it wouldn't seem that way," Shayera said.

"I'm fine with that," Clark agreed immediately.

Ollie nodded. "Yep."

"Good idea," said Flash, starting back the way he came. Clark followed after him.

"I'll see ya, Pretty Bird."

"Yeah," said Dinah, giving Ollie a warm smile before he walked off.

"Heh. Guess they couldn't wait to leave," Kara thought aloud.

"Men are strange like that," Shayera sighed. "All this emotional stuff, they don't really handle it too well. They just kind of bottle it up and brood over it later. It's a bit pathetic, when you think about it."

Dinah nodded in agreement, then quietly glided into the room. Shayera and Kara followed her in, watching as the blonde fished a blanket out of the small closet against the wall. She laid it over the two people in the bed, both of whom were still sound asleep. "I think it'd be a good idea to have one person stay with them, just to be safe," she said, voice low. "We can switch off."

"Then I'll take the first shift," Shayera declared. "I'm sure a few others would be willing to pitch in, too."

"Whoever's on duty can make sure people don't crowd around here," said Dinah. She turned her eyes back to Vic and Helena, sighing. "And we were just beginning to not hate each other," she chuckled, carefully brushing back a rogue cluster of hair that had fallen onto Helena's forehead.

"You wouldn't think they can both kick some serious ass when you look at 'em like this."

"It's funny you should say that," Dinah laughed, turning toward the Thanagarian. "Helena beat me in a rematch last night, and when we caught Ollie and Vic betting on us, we made them fight each other. Ollie lost."

Shayera snorted, and had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. "Those two sure are feisty. They probably have a great time in bed."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Dinah sighed.

"Alright, you two should get some rest. It's late and you've had a crummy day."

The moment Shayera mentioned rest, Dinah felt the need to yawn. "Yeah. Rest sounds good. Wake me when you get tired and I'll take over the watch." She yawned again as she started out of the room. "Come on, Kara…Kara?"

The Kryptonian's blue eyes were fixed on the slumbering people. She stood completely still, just staring.

"Kara? You okay?" Shayera asked.

"What's it like to be in love?"

Shayera and Dinah exchanged glances. The Thanagarian gave a grimace that said all too clearly, 'You want to take this one?'

Dinah shrugged. "Uhh, being in love is…well, there's really no way to explain it. It's different for everyone," she said, following Kara's gaze to the people in the bed. "You feel things you never even knew you could, ache in places you never even knew you had. Your instincts take over and all you can see, all you can think about is that person. Your knees go weak and your stomach is filled with butterflies. The kind of butterflies you never want to go away. You find yourself caring more about their life than you do your own. It's the greatest feeling in the world, but if that person's in trouble…it's the worst. Any pain they feel is your pain too. You'd give anything, _do_ anything, just to make them okay. Even take their place."

"It must be hard, being in love," Kara murmured, her eyes not moving.

"You'd be surprised how natural it comes," said Shayera bitterly. "You're an idiot if you think you can fight it."

Supergirl looked over at Shayera, whose green eyes were colder than death.

"Don't fall for the idiots," the Thanagarian added.

"Okay," Kara muttered, not knowing how else to respond.

Shayera, knowing she'd made the air so tense even a meat cleaver would fail to cut it, gave a cheery smile. "But you're too young to worry about all that stuff."

"I'm turning twenty-one in three weeks," Kara piped up.

"Great, we'll take you to see Barney," Dinah promised, yawning again. "But us old people need our sleep. I'm outta here."

"You're not that old," said Kara, following her out the door.

"Trust me. Compared to you, I'm an antique."

Shayera chuckled to herself as the two blondes disappeared. A heavy silence fell all around her, and she looked back at Vic and Helena. The jealousy crept through her veins once more. "Falling for idiots is all too easy these days. But you did good, Helena. You hooked the goddamn smartest fish in the sea."

x.x.x

'_Before I left my bed in the morning, little Adele came running in to tell me that the great horse-chestnut at the bottom of the orchard had been struck by lightning in the night, and half of it split away.'_

Mari finished the chapter and closed the book, sighing. The only sounds were those of the various buzzings common to a Watchtower hallway. This particular hall was deserted, and she occupied the only chair, which had been stolen from a nearby office. Mari figured Shayera had been the one to steal it from whatever office was nearby, considering she was first on duty. It was a comfortable chair, so comfortable that she'd found Dinah fast asleep in it. But that was understandable for someone on a three-hour watch shift in the middle of the night.

It had to be near sunrise by now, though. There were no windows in the hallway, so it was hard to tell. There wasn't even a clock. Oh well. Zatanna had the fourth shift and would come when it was time. Until then, Mari just had to sit back and relax. It was pretty easy when the subjects of the watch were sleeping peacefully. She hoped it would stay that way, for Helena's sake. Sleeping through pain was a hell of a lot better than being awake. But then again, she had her man. A man that…

Mari gave a shudder when the images resurfaced in her mind. She'd seen it on the Watchtower monitors hours ago. The blood, the guns… It was all so horrible, and she had shed the tears to prove it. Mari wasn't a woman who cried often, but she had tonight. And she hadn't been the only one.

It was very lucky neither of them were killed. No, luck had nothing to do with it. It was another four-letter word beginning with L – a word that tied people closer together than anything else.

She sighed and leaned her head back, attempting to ward off self-pity. But something moved in the corner of her eye and all thoughts of self-pity were gone.

A red-haired man slowly emerged from the doorway a few feet to her left. He looked like a ghost. His face was blank and white as a sheet. The bloodied orange shirt that had been resting on the floor inside the room was now carelessly thrown around his upper body.

Mari stood up, afraid that the man might topple over. "Question, is everything alright?" she asked.

He continued to stare straight ahead. "There is no Question without a Huntress." His voice was weak and flat, but he turned to look at her. "It's just Vic."

Mari was silent for a moment. Those blue eyes were the saddest things she'd ever seen. Just looking at them made her want to cry again. "Then Vic it is," she said. "Is something wrong?"

"Wanted to see who was stuck on guard duty."

She raised an eyebrow. "Figures you'd know you're being watched. And no one's stuck doing anything. We all volunteered."

"All?" he asked, as if the word had been spoken in another language.

"Almost a dozen people are lined up to take over a watch. I'm only the third."

He was silent for a moment, then turned and shuffled back into the room. "We don't need your pity."

"Hey, wait a second," Mari called. "We're not doing this out of pity."

Vic turned around, fixing an icy stare on her. "Why then?"

"Because you're a part of this team and we respect you. Both of you."

The chill of his expression soon thawed. "That's a bit funny," he mumbled. "Being part of a team means trusting those around you. Helena and I…have never been very good at that."

"But you trust each other, right?"

Vic blinked quizzically at the strange question. "Completely."

"That's good enough for us."

After a short pause, Vic grumbled, "I really don't understand you people."

Mari just laughed as the red-haired man shuffled the rest of the way into the room. "I don't understand us either."

**x.x.x**

I know I've been naughty and haven't updated in a while, so if you want to punish me, don't review. It will break my little pathetic heart, but I'll survive. :D

If anyone knows what book that little blurb in italics up there is from, I'll give you a virtual high five! It's from my favorite book of all time.


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